Living with Heart
by DB2020
Summary: The darker side to the Balamb Lion's past, and even darker desires between father and son. The storms sweep through Esthar, bringing life altering changes for everyone they hit.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Final Fantasy VIII.

**Notice:** This is kind of a darker fic, elements of Squall's past being rather sad. It also contains alternate realities. I basically just played around with Squall's childhood, saying that Cid first brought him to Garden at age nine, with visits back to the orphanage and what not. Generally, everything turned out the same, but it adds layers to Squall's life that obviously weren't there before.

**Warning:** There is explicit sexual content, graphic descriptions between Squall and Laguna. Yes, this is incest, and no I don't think it's sick... not for a yaoi fanfic anyway. There is mentioning of pedophilia, which I do find abhorent, but it's nothing in depth or descriptive. There is also mentioning of Squall servicing dignitaries for the benefit of Balamb Garden, which basically boils down to prostitution. Given the experiences I've created for Squall's character, I have still remained true to the over all Squall persona... exceptions allotted at certain moments.

Living With Heart

Act I

Warm summer air filtered in with a clean scent of the sea. It was a celebration party that would be in every newspaper the next day, heralding the end of Ultimecia's threat and the Second Sorceress War. Balamb Garden had never hosted so many officials at once. There was at least one leader from every city, county, country, etc.

White marble floors patterned with a gold leaf design, tall Corinthian pillars rising four stories up, and an outer wall with glass doors leading to a long stretching balcony that overviewed the shores of Balamb created a lavish setting for the event. It was bright in the room, various chandeliers hanging to overlook the festivities.

There were, of course, a handful of people who did not want to be there. Those few were the less social types or anyone who had an early morning they absolutely could not get out of.

Squall Leonhart had both those reasons to loathe being there, instead wishing he could duck out early like on the induction ball when he'd first made SeeD rank. It was all he could do to smile and nod while requesting the servers to bring him one espresso after the other. Exhaustion was deep set, a long time coming, but it was the last problem any of these people wanted to see in him. As their wonder boy, he had to be perfect, which meant not going to bed early because he didn't feel well.

Laguna Loire was one man who usually didn't mind the various functions set up for appearances, but this night was different. While Squall was being badgered and flanked on all sides, he quietly watched from a distance and mused in silence. Thinking alone was not his usual pass time, but he had a few extra matters on his mind. He had to tell Squall about their relation, perhaps even that very night.

It had been the most dramatic and changing few months of his life. He had more grey hairs streaking his long raven tresses now than ever before. In fact, prior to Ultimecia's arrival, he hadn't had any grey hairs. Now he had quite a few, not that he cared. The war was over, and that was all that mattered.

Yes, it was over, but nothing was ever going to be the same. And he didn't necessarily want it to return to the way it had been. The only trouble was that he had mixed feelings about Squall, confusing feelings that he couldn't discern. There might be some confusion, but it wasn't a problem. Once he adjusted to it all, everything would fall into place.

With a sigh, Laguna downed his glass of Champaign. He needed something stronger.

Hazel green eyes stared fixedly across the large room, roving over the one person who probably would have commanded all his attention even if he hadn't recently learned that it was his son.

Looking every bit the prodigy leader, the pale boy stood straight in SeeD uniform, ranks in place at the left breast. That rich chestnut hair had grown over the past four months, nearly brushing against postured shoulders. One other notable difference was the baggy manner in which the uniform clung to the boy's already slender form. The belt around a slim waist didn't quite loop small enough, testimony to a loss of weight.

Commander Leonhart was an idol. Laguna didn't doubt that if it had been someone else, another mercenary to step up to the plate and hit one homerun after another until the game was won, that the room would still have eyes on Squall. Maybe that was just his borderline obsession interfering with his judgment, but he felt certain Squall had an eye-catching aura.

It was a notion nearly too insane to believe. This hero, barely old enough to be considered a young man, was his son. Squall Leonhart was his son. The Balamb Lion was his son. His and Rain's. Sweet Hyne, he looked so much like her too. He should have known at first sight, but denial tended to cloud the eyes. There were other moments when he thought he was looking at himself, as if into a mirror of youth. It was odd how one person could look like two others while at the same time looking wholly unique.

There was Ellone too, the little girl he never thought he'd see again. Now she was all grown up, married to boot. He'd let it all slip away.

Fighting Adel had been one matter, but he could have returned afterwards. Instead, he'd remained in Esthar. Being a ruler, the President, seemed like a fair enough excuse. Yet, when an extra little bit of information was tagged on the end of it, it was simply an excuse. That extra tidbit happened to be that he'd left behind a pregnant woman, a woman he'd loved. He'd stayed away so completely that he'd passed his years without ever knowing of Rain's death until a year after it occurred, not to mention his son's trials and tribulations for seventeen years.

Did that make him a complete bastard? Forget that he was supposedly the biggest softy with a heart of gold, or so Kiros and Ward reminded him when he became too lenient at times. Was he a cruel man? He had a son, a child that shared his blood, and he'd never seen the brunet a day before in his life, never harbored any concerned thoughts, never wondered how he'd been doing, if he'd been well.

It had been so simple to assume any child of his would be better off within the care of Rain's next of kin. He'd never outgrown his air headed tendencies. He would have been a danger to the child.

Any guilt over learning that there had been no next of kin, no godparents, was stomped out by seeing for himself the type of person Squall had grown up to be. He couldn't have raised such a young man, so strong and intelligent. It confirmed his decision that he'd have been a bad father, to see what was made of a potential he might have caused to go to waste.

Still, what would Squall make of it when the truth came to light? Would the Commander, who appeared so strong, yet fragile at the same time, shun him in outrage? What was left for him? At seventeen, Squall was all grown up, what was left for him?

'Have I always been this selfish?' Laguna wondered.

The raven haired man almost felt sick at the idea of it all. It didn't help that he was having the most outrageous and downright nasty thoughts about the young Commander. Initially, he'd written it off as some latent paternal appreciation, noting just how great a boy Squall really was, a father's pride.

But as the months tarried on, he realized that his appreciation was dangerously close to attraction. For now it was simply obsession, the strong desire to watch this person he'd helped create. And watch he did, but always from a safe distance, where nothing would change and he wouldn't do something stupid in a drunken stupor.

He wasn't quite drunk enough though. He didn't know how drunk he was supposed to be getting, but as Squall smiled faintly, however forced it may have been, he realized he would truly need something stronger than Champaign.

"Having fun?" a familiar voice questioned in a smooth tone.

"It's a grand party, why wouldn't I be?" Laguna responded without casting a glance to his new companion. Slouching in defeat, he leaned heavily against an ornate pillar.

Kiros Seagill, long time acquaintance of the former Galbadian soldier, eyed his longhaired friend keenly. Ever since the ordeal with Adel, or rather Ultimecia, and the Lunar Cry, Laguna just didn't seem to be himself. Something was more than off.

Carrying on with the meaningless exchange he'd approached the raven haired man for in the first place, Kiros commented, "Diplomacy, politics, making nice with every well to do prick invited… I never thought you found any of that fun."

"I'm the President, remember. To these people, all of that was what I must have gotten off on as a teen."

Laguna's bitter words caused the presidential advisor greater worry. There was something brewing beneath the surface, and it was something serious. Still unsure what it was, he tried to follow the usually easygoing man's gaze. "You know it doesn't have to be like this. Esthar doesn't have to open its gates."

"Yes it does," Laguna said in defeat. "It's been twenty years coming. Besides, I owe him that much."

Eyebrows raised, the tall advisor stared at Laguna in question. "What do you owe? And to whom do you owe it?"

"_We_," Laguna began, pointedly gesturing to the entire ballroom area that hosted representatives from every country and nation, "owe him everything." He tried his best to keep the longing out of his voice upon speaking the simple pronoun of 'him'.

Kiros finally spotted the single person that Laguna was staring at and most likely referring to. On the other side of the enormous room, made twice as large by the polished marble flooring that reflected the arcing ceiling above, was a small group of people: Cid Kramer, General Caraway, Commander Martine, and Squall Leonhart. The world's hero was centered, apparently the focus of the conversation, but still talking the least. The boy managed to frown without actually doing so. It was almost amusing.

"I see," Kiros commented absently. As a waiter approached, he none too discretely waved him off.

"I wanted another glass," Laguna whispered as a group of white haired parliament members came within hearing range.

"You're not getting drunk," Kiros affirmed a bit harshly, "You know what this means."

"How inept do you think I am?" Laguna hissed back. He might not have been cut out for politics, but after twenty years of running country right into the sky with prosperity, he'd say he had some experience and know how.

"We'll talk later. I believe the bald one is Dollet's Governor, and the rest are anybody's guess."

"President Loire," Governor Jordan greeted firmly, chest puffed out.

Laguna braced himself. Everyone had their own attitude about Esthar, none of them actually knowing a damn thing. Not knowing about his country was not their fault, but the condescending and sometimes fearful air other leaders had was entirely on them.

Kiros found himself watching and listening for the better part of the next hour as Laguna fell into a more natural manner of socializing. It wasn't long before a small crowd had gathered, listening in on the youthful looking president's history as ruler. It never took much for anyone to realize that Esthar was economically sound, scientifically beyond imagination, and politically stable. With little fault to find, aside from the non-existent trade relations, Governor Jordan was one of many leaders who lost their arrogant attitudes. And Laguna could sure entrance an audience when he got into it, when he really started to fall into pace and the heart of adventurous tales.

Soon enough the twilight waned, the sun falling completely beyond the flat, watery horizon. Clear skies allowed for the first sighting of twinkling stars, many guests taking their leave to the balcony. The orchestra had begun playing soothing ballads, mostly Balamb classics, some with a tune more familiar to Dollet. Though the dance floor had been open all night, only now as many dispersed to the outside, did couples begin.

General Caraway stood at President Loire's side, letting the overall buzz of excited joy wash over him. It had been a long time since his affairs seemed so settled. Deling City's new president was a man he'd nominated himself, finally a competent leader he could support. Laguna Loire was a man he wanted to become friends with, Esthar being the next big target to establish trade relations with.

Somehow the conversation had turned to discuss the conveniently absent Balamb Lion. Laguna was quite amused to hear all the various nicknames for the first time, but the following conversation was one that unsettled him beyond seeing clearly.

"Sorry Martine, but if all SeeD from Balamb look like our boy Leonhart does in leather, then I won't even be considering Galbadia anymore."

It was the governor of Timber who made that comment. Governor Zimmer was a man who had taken leadership over a recently independent Timber. His close relations and lap dog attitude towards Deling City's president ensured no qualms.

Commander Martine laughed, along with everyone else, excluding a shocked president of Esthar and the dark skinned advisor who seemed to have woken from a dulled stated.

"I might just be hiring Leonhart to paint a few fences myself," Martine shot back.

Laguna swallowed thickly, not quite believing his ears.

"Careful now," Caraway soothed, "That might be my future son-in-law you're talking about."

Straightening, Laguna tried his best not to show just how upset that last remark made him, especially since it was the least outrageous.

"Well, if your daughter remains involved in Timber, I'll be all the happier for it. Just see to it that she brings her husband around."

Caraway's eyes gleamed as he prepared to make his next sarcastic retort, "She's got better taste than to hang out with an old sod like you Zimmer, and certainly knows to keep all stable boys away."

This got the group going, making it suddenly noticeable that the raven haired man was unamused.

"What's the matter Loire?"

Kiros was almost afraid to guess which way his friend was going to go on this one. Either laugh it off good-naturedly or go raving mad. Granted Laguna was not close to Squall like a father, but knowing the emotional man, he'd start throwing punches out of some instantaneous bond he'd received upon learning Squall was his son.

"Sorry," Laguna bit out at length, seeing red but too afraid to admit which reason was causing his greatest distress. There was a mixture of defensive protectiveness and jealousy. "I guess I just don't like to ogle young boys."

Chuckling the tension away, Martine assured, "Come now Loire, we're just being glib. I'm a happily married man, but sometimes it's nice to admire a nice ass that isn't my wife's."

Kiros reached a hand out to firmly squeeze Laguna's shoulder. The advisor feared the worst when it was roughly shrugged off.

"Nice ass?" Laguna remarked incredulously, stepping forward. "That's my son you're talking about _Commander_. I don't generally find any part of him attractive in the nature you men apparently do. He's seventeen for Hyne's sake!"

"And I'll be eighteen this coming August, so I should hope you gentlemen can wait that long for my company. I'm afraid I shall have to hold you to your word Governor Zimmer, Cid would expect no less of me."

"A true diplomat," Caraway cheered as all men in company turned to welcome the approaching young SeeD, looking every bit the stalking lion with a calm stride and subtly swaying hips. "What's this I hear about your father now?"

Storm blue eyes seemed at a loss for moment, studying an enraged Laguna piercingly before regarding the group again. "Estranged father I'm afraid, you all know how kind the Headmaster and his wife were in raising me. President Loire was preoccupied saving a nation. Unfortunately my mother failed to inform him he had a child, and after her passing there really was no call for such a busy man to travel half way around the world."

Laguna couldn't believe his ears. It was one shocking stream of words after the other. First of all, Squall was speaking in full sentences, a surprise on its own. Secondly, what happened to his dearest Matron? Squall made it sound like Cid had adopted him. And, what was this about Rain? She was not the bad guy, so where the hell did Squall get off spinning it in such a manner.

"Duty above all else, is that not right?" Squall questioned in a coy manner, almost seductively casting a gaze to each man.

Swallowing thickly, Laguna balled his fists.

"Father, I'm afraid I require a bit of your time," Squall spoke evenly, never faltering with the previously unused title.

General Caraway amicably threw an arm about the smaller boy's shoulders. "A fine boy to be proud of Loire, my congratulations. Never mind our joking earlier, Leonhart's heard it all before."

"Indeed," the choppy haired brunet agreed wryly, "But you understand I only put up with it because it means no one's looking at Rinoa."

Caraway gave an affectionate squeeze to Squall's shoulders, beaming down proudly as though he were gazing at a favored son. "I couldn't be happier that my daughter has someone like you watching out for her."

Everyone seemed to hold their breath, knowing the General's real meaning.

"I'm more than her knight sir, I care for your daughter deeply. I'd never let anything happen to her."

"Squall!" cried a tearful voice. The rushed clicking of heals sounded as an emotional young woman flung herself against the Commander's chest.

Stepping back, Caraway allowed for the young man to consolingly hold his daughter. It was chaste and warm hearted, not to mention amusing as there seemed an uncertainty in the boy's refined features. That was what made Squall Leonhart the perfect suitor. He was devoted, he'd already proved he would revere Rinoa's life above all else, and he was innocently unpracticed with women. Squall Leonhart was the best thing to ever happen to General Caraway, making his life damn near perfect.

"Do you really care?" Rinoa questioned, regardless of the fact that she'd already overheard his declaration.

"Of course I do," Squall soothed, pausing momentarily before adding, "You know you're my world."

"Oh Squall," the raven haired girl sounded with giddiness, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Kiros watched with rising disgust as Squall spoke lie after lie. The kid was good at it, that was certain, but not good enough to fool someone who wasn't hearing what they wanted to be hearing. The pauses of bitter preparation were obvious. The brunet needed to steel himself before saying something utterly opposing to his true nature. He'd only known the boy for a short few months, but he had a sound idea of how Squall Leonhart was prone to acting. This was a nauseating display of some bullshit scheme to make Squall the ideal hero in every respect.

The dark skinned advisor felt like spitting, there was such a bad taste in his mouth from watching. He didn't even want to think about how confused Laguna must be.

"Laguna," Kiros whispered taking a hold of the man's upper arm.

"Rinoa, you'll have to excuse me for a bit," Squall spoke soothingly with a gentle attempt to pry her off of him. It was sheer luck that she hadn't overheard anything about President Loire.

With a pout, the raven-haired girl pulled back enough to stare intimately into the brunet's grey-blue eyes. Her pout turned into a disapproving frown at the observation that those eyes held a certain sharpness unbefitting the softly spoken words and over all dashing features of her boyfriend's face.

It bothered her immensely that there wasn't some sort of magical connection between them. Even though Squall was her knight, she couldn't read his mind or emotions any better than before. It was the biggest disappointment to becoming a sorceress.

She'd thought mind reading would be a given or something, at least with Squall. It would be so romantic if they could whisper '_I love you'_ back and forth all day without anyone knowing. She imagined Squall secretly smiling in the middle of an important meeting, then the others would wonder what he was so happy about, none the wiser to her being in his head. Yet, here he was, eyes guarded as ever before.

"Dance with me when you get back," she requested as compensation for his leaving.

"I look forward to it," Squall replied with a chaste kiss to her cheek.

Rinoa beamed at him. She could forgive his still lingering tendencies of reclusion for now, but only because he'd made so much progress. He spoke openly, holding full conversations with her and others. It was mostly boring chitchat with government officials, but at least he was talking. And he stopped being such a hermit, accepting that he was meant to shine out above all others and be in the limelight.

"Gentlemen," the young SeeD bid in departure.

Laguna only managed to follow Squall at the guidance of Kiros. With each step, the young man's stride seemed to increase, belying a want to hurry. Stopping at the large fountain centered in Balamb Garden, the gunbladist whirled around, apparently too impatient to secure greater privacy.

It was dark, the whole of Garden temporarily shut down and off limits to civilians, other than the ballroom. Always illuminated, there was a soft glow of nightlights along the fountains edge.

"You're my father?" Squall questioned evenly, his voice meticulously calm and void of emotion.

Laguna wrenched himself away from his advisor. He was furious, completely unaware that he had just let the cat out of the bag. "What the fuck was that?" he half shouted to the teen.

"Laguna," Kiros hissed in reprimand.

"You let them talk about you like that?" the longhaired president continued.

Heaving a weary sigh, Squall pinched the bridge of his nose before replying, "It's nothing."

"Like hell it's nothing."

"You're upset by it?" the brunet prompted.

"Is it that obvious?" Laguna spat sarcastically.

Between the sarcasm and anger, Squall eyed the man suspiciously. Perhaps he wasn't the only one putting up fronts. Maybe Laguna really wasn't the cheerful man that Ellone had shown them all, or the warmhearted President they'd met in Esthar. Perhaps these emotions were the older man's true colors? Or was this an act and the other personality the truth? Did it matter?

"Calm down," Kiros soothed. Dark eyes cast a disapproving glance to the smaller boy. "I have to agree with Laguna, that was more than inappropriate. I don't see how you find it normal, unless things have changed since we've been in Esthar."

Swallowing dryly, Squall regarded the two men before him. There were two matters on the table and he was out numbered for the one he didn't want to address. Still, he was stubborn. "Perhaps you _have_ been secluded for too long. There has always been a reason for me being here, Cid wouldn't have taken me in so young unless I could be of use to Garden. As a mercenary, it is a trivial matter. Now please, tell me about you being my father."

Laguna's green eyes softened at the slightly desperate tone Squall held. This was not how he'd planned on telling the boy. "You are my son," he admitted heavily. "Rain was your mom and Ell is your adopted sister."

"Sis," Squall mumbled, eyes averted as if in memory.

"You guessed it fairly well in one go," the president remarked with distain. "I went to Esthar before I knew. Rain died giving birth, but rumor of her death never reach me until a year later."

Stormy blue eyes shot up and gazed with a brief flash of hurt before the brunet inquired, "_Before_ you knew?"

There were a million excuses Laguna had used in his head over the past sixteen years. Some of them actually managed to assuage his guilt, but now that he faced this previously faceless and nameless apparition, they fell flat. Nothing could excuse his actions, even if he felt certain they had been for the best.

"I'll leave you," Kiros whispered before walking off, supposedly just a walk around the long bend that would circle back.

"What do I know about raising kids?" Laguna offered as his best excuse, hating how it sounded and even worse how it caused another flash of pain in those bright eyes. It was his simmering bout of anger, a rarity that left him embarrassed and mind boggled, unable to come up with better words. Though, he doubted he'd be able to not sound like a total ass no matter how the subject was broached.

Unnoticeably gritting his teeth, Squall suppressed the swelling of emotion inside himself. After so many years, it was ridiculous to suddenly feel attachment or longing. He'd given up on finding his missing parents by the age of six and given up on the idea of ever being adopted by the age of nine. Family had no meaning in his life, it would be a liability at this point.

Yet, out of nowhere, this man claimed to be his father, someone he'd dreamed of meeting with childish ignorance for the first six years of his life. Secretly, he'd actually held onto those dreams until he was ten, but even he wouldn't admit to having held on that long.

The oddest realization that Squall received from it all was that Laguna Loire was just like everybody else. Everyone lied, everyone made excuses, everyone had a temper and got angry. Prior to that night, the President of Esthar had been this immortalized symbol of strength, justice, perseverance, duty, and most of all kindness.

Estharians had nothing but love for their leader, a man who upheld the same ideals all these years later as from the beginning. A man who was a goofball at times and never seemed to show any negative emotion. A man who'd starred in the corniest knight's tale film ever and still managed to hold his head up high because it had been an amusing experience if nothing else.

"I see," Squall murmured at length. It was obvious enough that Laguna didn't need a child while running a country. His existence had never been convenient for anyone, least of all himself. Besides, he'd seen the type of irresponsible featherbrained soldier the man had been at twenty-seven. He'd been more mature that Laguna by the time he hit thirteen, so what type of father would the older man have turned out to be.

As memories of Laguna and Ellone surfaced, Squall bowed his head slightly, refusing to let any emotion be seen in his eyes. It was always his eyes that gave him away.

Laguna was actually the type of man who would make a great dad, a real father of the year. Seeing the way he'd been with Ellone was proof. But, he wasn't about to say anything.

It wasn't a matter of if Laguna wanted to be his father. It was a fact that they were related, assuming the President had solid proof. Squall could only imagine the possibilities this opened for the President.

Good relations with Balamb Garden were almost guaranteed. Given his own reputation with the public at the moment, it gave Laguna a good opportunity to open Esthar's gates without being spurned by the rest of the world for the years of secret existence.

Laguna stood taller, his stance almost mimicking the Commander's. Head bowed, he scratched the back of his neck in a nervous habit. "I wasn't sure until Ell told me. You look just like your mom, I was shocked when I first saw you. I haven't done any blood work, but I'm positive."

"…"

"Anyways, I hadn't planned on telling you like this, it just sort of slipped. I don't usually get angry like that. If it's a problem, with everyone in there finding out, I can vouch that you didn't know either."

"It's fine," Squall muttered, his tightlipped nature taking hold while his mind became a whirlwind of scattered thoughts.

Squall knew he needed to go back to the party, but he also knew that this little revelation was affecting him far greater than he'd ever anticipated. He didn't want to feel the heavy weight in his chest, a telltale sign of some oppressed emotion. But it was there, crushing his lungs all the same.

Hyne, it had been a long night. Actually, it had been a long year. He thought it would have been easier to act the way everyone wanted him to, rather than ignore them all and be the person he preferred. That was not the case.

If he had to schmooze with one more person, he felt like he was going to snap and attack the whole damn room with his gunblade. He needed Shiva desperately, but they'd taken her away temporarily. Above all else, he needed a night of solitude, a night without Rinoa.

He needed Rinoa at the same time he needed to be rid of her. It was the most ironic result of being her knight. Biting the bullet and speaking warmhearted words to every cheesy smiling face he met was something he simply wasn't capable of. But, he was able to do it because it was what his sorceress wanted. Each time he felt his resolve falter, a wave of urging approval washed over him. He doubted she knew this, he'd actually attributed it to being a subconscious use of her powers, the feel of it dallying into the realm of mind control.

But who was he to prefer acting differently? His childhood friends seemed happier for his improved social skills. Weren't their smiles more important than his fake ones? Once the celebratory aftermath settled, he'd be able to fall in line again and regain a little of his isolation. It would never be the same, but he hadn't been much happier before the war either. Maybe he'd become accustomed to smiling and talking, and then it wouldn't be excruciatingly difficult to pull off without suspicion.

"Squall?" Laguna spoke softly, daring to reach a hand out and shake the boy's shoulder. He was surprised at the thickness of the shoulder pad, he'd always imagined that broad shouldered and imposing stance had been natural. The material felt loose, which was discouraging given that Squall was already a fairly slender young man.

"Hey," the older man tried again, giving a firmer shake to the boy's smaller frame.

Abruptly snapping back from lost reverie, Squall jerked away and gazed for a fraction of second with alarm at the longhaired president. Away from his sorceress' urging tendrils of magic, bidding him to stand center stage, Squall came to the decision that he'd love little else but to retire for the night. It was a weak man's desire that he was ashamed to crumble to. Everyone made excuses, even himself.

Tomorrow, when he received hell for leaving unannounced. He'd probably tell Cid it was because of his shock over Laguna's paternal secret.

"Excuse me," he supplied tersely before making his way towards the dormitories. In his old room, no one would find him. It was unoccupied, just waiting for a lower ranking cadet to be assigned it. However, it would once again house him for the night, in sweet blissful darkness and silence.

Frantically, Laguna reached out again. "Where are you going?" he questioned with ill concealed desperation.

Brows furrowed and lips forming a frown, Squall turned back to regard the man. He didn't know exactly what Laguna wanted from him. At the moment, he couldn't give the President anything.

If there were a contract or treaty that the President had in mind, it would have to wait until at least the next day. "I'm sure the Headmaster will be happy to discuss any matter you have in mind, especially given that you're my father. But, I'm no longer the Commander, I really can't help you directly."

Wildly confused Laguna had to rerun the brunet's words in his head several times before realizing which parts confused him the most. "You're not the Commander?"

"It was a temporary post," Squall explained logically, wondering where the other man had been when it was announced.

Laguna's youthful face contorted in an unusual frown of disapproval. "You were the only leader capable of winning this war."

With a shake of choppy locks, Squall reasoned again, "I'm just a regular SeeD. All of our efforts were commendable, but who would hire mercenaries from a Garden run by a seventeen year old?"

'Who indeed,' Laguna's mind raged with the reminder of the type of men in charge of all these other facilities and countries. The world must have changed quite a bit since he'd last been involved in it. Gender and age were of no consequence to these people. 'Who are you to judge?' a smaller voice in the back of his mind spoke up. While gender was certainly not a factor for Estharians, age was. Although, sixteen was the official marker for Estharian adults.

Squall watched with patience as hazel green eyes searched back and forth with incomprehension. He figured the man must have realized that there would be no bargaining with him tonight when those eyes widened with shock.

"I had hoped we could talk," Laguna explained, gazing at his son with dawning understanding.

Brows drawn in confusion, Squall questioned, "About what?"

Laguna mirrored the brunet's confused state. "About us. I don't expect anything, but if we could just talk. I can't tell you how much I wish I had been there. If there is any chance that we could… that you'd let me be in your life, any at all, please tell me."

Squall's mouth parted to answer, but no words came. Grey-blue eyes searched the President's almost pleading expression for a better explanation. "I'm not the one to decide," he said at length. "Cid and Xu will be handling any relations Balamb Garden might have with Esthar."

"No," Laguna shook his head. "I mean, as your dad. Between me and you, if we could get to know each other better," he proposed with his mind recalling half fantasies he'd formed over it all.

"I don't know," Squall replied honestly before he could think any better of it.

Taking the answer like a spike driven into his heart, Laguna became crestfallen. He hadn't realized just how hopeful he'd been, just how much he wanted to become closer to the boy. But, he hadn't been shot down all together. Though, judging by Squall's lack of enthusiasm, he'd say the part where he'd never been around for seventeen years might have created a tiny roadblock.

"It's all so sudden, I know. Will you think on it for a while, the night at least? I'm not asking for you to change your life, just let me be in it."

With a sharp intake of breath, Squall fought to remain impassive. He was going to take the night to think on it, and probably the rest of the week too. His mind was scattered, unable to identify the rising emotions he felt. He'd been so certain that he hadn't held any attachments to an idea that was so unrealistically romantic. A father? He might as well have a mother and little brother thrown into the mix as well.

"Where will you be?" the brunet managed to ask. He was torn between feelings he couldn't even name yet. It was frustrating.

"I'll be here," Laguna answered quickly, almost excitedly. "Tomorrow and the next day, I'll be staying here. I'd planned on going back after that, but I can stay as long as you like."

"I'll see you tomorrow then, not 'til late." Hyne knew he'd be working on overdrive for the next few months, until things settled down.

"That's fine, I'll be available any time. Early, late, whenever." Laguna couldn't help but feel a little foolish at his eagerness. If Squall were a woman he was trying to set a date up with, he'd sound pathetically desperate.

With a curt nod, Squall took his leave. Even though he wanted to reach his old dorm room as quickly as possible, his legs felt like led and his steps didn't seem to quicken at his urging. So, he walked slowly, all the while consumed by President Loire's words.

"Father," he mumbled while slinking closer to the outer wall and away from the dim lights along the fountain. He didn't need someone spotting him and dragging him back to the party.

Why did his chest feel tight? That was indicative of longing or some such feeling, wasn't it? Did he still long for family? Maybe his mind was too clouded. He'd been fairly numb prior to the discovery. He probably just needed time.

Squall was quite startled when a hand reached out and grasped his shoulder. Spinning about, he jerked away from the touch and instinctively began to pull Lionheart out. However, once he recognized the lanky form of Kiros Seagill, he stiffened and sheathed his gunblade.

"Sir," he gave a nod of apology, choppy strands falling to obscure his eyes. Though he felt like reprimanding the dark skinned advisor, he realized it was more his mistake for becoming lost in his mind again.

"Easy," Kiros said with his hands drawn up defenselessly.

"I think President Loire returned to the party," Squall supplied.

"I had hoped to talk with you actually," the taller man stated. His tone didn't seem to leave room for refusal. "I'll walk you to your room."

"That's not necessary-"

"Humor me," Kiros cut in. As he turned to direct the young man to walk along, he muttered, "You're so good at it."

"Sir?" Squall questioned. He'd perfected asking more with in a single word than most thought possible.

"No offense."

"…"

"I'm not going to plead Laguna's case," he assured quietly. Aside from being in a silent area, he had a rather uneasy suspicion that any truth he might manage to glean from the SeeD would be fairly hush-hush.

Squall walked along, wondering what the President's advisor wanted to speak with him about. He didn't like to repeat himself, even if it was to a different person. He wasn't the Commander anymore, he had no sway over any negotiations or contracts made with Garden.

"You said something earlier that caught my attention." He hadn't over heard the rest of the conversation after he'd left, but he had a fairly good idea of how it had gone.

Squall remained silent, uncertain of the air Kiros was projecting. He didn't like not being able to read a person. It was a rather welcome distraction from his own thoughts though. By the time they made it to his room, he'd be able to crash and sleep on it all.

"How old were you when you first arrived here?"

Frowning, Squall hesitated while questioning the relevance of such a question. "Nine," he answered softly.

Dark eyes brows shot up in surprise. "Your file says you were twelve."

Squall stopped walking and turned to face the taller man. "What is this about exactly? And why exactly do you feel the need to pry into my personal record?"

"I have the authority to check every person's background if they are going to be in contact with the President."

It was a struggled to keep form rolling his eyes and stalking off angrily. "Then I was twelve," he corrected.

"You said nine," Kiros pointed out suspiciously.

"I guess I was wrong, wasn't I?" Squall hissed a bit angrily. He'd been honest enough the first time, but knowing that other people knew all about him by going behind his back was a pet peeve of his.

"Listen, I'm not trying to start any trouble. I just wanted to know the details about your life as a cadet."

Taking a deep breath, Squall admitted, "I was nine. I was also underage, which is why it says I was twelve."

For a thoughtful moment, Kiros didn't say anything. He gestured politely for the pale brunet to continue walking. They fell in stride once again and he felt inclined to asking more questions. "What exactly does a nine year old do in a Garden?"

With a small smirk, Squall retorted, "I peeled potatoes and learned all about baking. What do you think I did here?"

"You'll have to excuse my bias on the matter. In my day, it was rare to see anyone under the age of sixteen near Galbadia Garden. How is it that you only graduated a few months ago?"

"I wasn't legally able to enroll to become SeeD until I was fourteen, and there were absences that held me back."

"Absences?" Kiros remarked with interest, "Your record shows them as gaps in your time here, no reasons given."

"And it will stay that way," Squall affirmed resolutely.

"You have no family or friends outside of Garden, correct?"

Squall gave a nod.

"So, where exactly did you go for months at a time? It takes two months of missing every single class before instructors are forced to fail you for a course."

Not replying, Squall stared forward. He didn't like to repeat himself. He wasn't going to answer.

"I'm capable of finding out on my own," the advisor spoke deeply.

"That a threat?" the brunet asked with traces of amusement.

"No, it's a certainty. You might as well tell me now. I have my suspicions, what with the secretive manner in which you were raised in this place against regulations, not to mention the psychological issues you have. Where exactly did Headmaster Kramer send you off to?"

Gritting his teeth, Squall asked, "Psychological issues?" That statement stood out to him, pricking him with annoyance.

"You're symptomatic of deeply rooted mental problems. You're withdrawn, unfeeling, skittish, defensive, and you have a powerful need to please everyone around you."

Squall balled his fists and prayed to Hyne for the patience. He'd never had problems with Kiros before. He'd actually grown to respect the man, and perhaps like him from time to time. "No disrespect meant, but I think it's none of your business, _doctor._"

"You said Cid had a use for you, what was it?" Kiros asked bluntly, ignoring the boy's obvious want to not discuss it.

"I suggest you ask the Headmaster," Squall replied, throwing a glare Kiros' way. Coming to a halt, he gave a curt nod and said, "Goodnight Mr. Seagill."

Quirking a brow at the manner in which the younger man was dismissing him, Kiros replied, "Goodnight Squall, I hope to talk more some other time."

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

Living with Heart

Act II

"My bag is so heavy, why don't we have someone pick us up?" Rinoa complained for the twentieth time.

Squall reached out and tugged on the bag's strap. Rinoa released the luggage with a grin, brown eyes watching as her attractive boyfriend carried all their stuff with ease. He had muscles, but he wasn't bulky like some guys she'd known.

"How much longer do we have to walk?" she asked.

"A couple miles to the nearest lift, that's all," Squall replied, wishing Rinoa would just enjoy the nice weather.

"I still can't believe that Laguna Loire is your dad, I mean, talk about fate. I guess everything comes together in the end, doesn't it?" She stepped closer to the darkly clad SeeD and linked her arm through his, regardless of the duffle bag he carried.

The couple walked from the train station on the outskirts of Esthar. The giant city nation loomed over the horizon. The sight was almost chilling with its surreal atmosphere. It was such a vision of previously unimaginable technology. The sun was high in the sky behind them, making the tallest towers shimmer as though made of glass.

Squall was on his way to spend time with President Loire, to get to know the man who was his father. The truth behind it was that Headmaster Cid and Commander Xu wanted him to secure Esthar's favor. Apparently, they were extremely hopeful in establishing good relations with the technologically advanced country.

Naturally, Rinoa was hyped to come along. However, she was dismayed to learn that his time spent there was intended to stay off the charts, hence the walking instead of an official entourage. She'd been looking forward to the five star treatment. Laguna was like a king, which made Squall a prince and herself a princess.

"You're awfully quite today," the young woman chided gently. Hugging Squall's arm more tightly, she none too discretely pressed her chest against it. If she could feel the hardened muscle of his upper arm through that thick leather bomber jacket, then he could no doubt feel her breasts.

"Just thinking," Squall mumbled absently. He felt the familiar tendrils of magic that Rinoa exuded. They wrapped around him. A dull pounding began in his head, a simple headache that came with the urging push.

Silently hoping that it was all that training as a SeeD that made Squall impervious to the feel of her chest, she chastised, "You think too much." While she was far from expecting every man to fall head over heals for her, she had some sense of expectancy. She wasn't a self-thought narcissist, but she admired her beauty in the mirror from time to time.

Shutting his eyes for a brief moment, Squall steeled himself. "I do, don't I?" he spoke softly. Leaning over he placed a quick kiss to the top of the shorter girl's head. The effect was immediate, all rising magic dispersing and leaving him headache free.

Rinoa rest her head against the brunet's arm. "So, tell me about him," she prompted.

Frowning, Squall stared forward. He wanted to roll his eyes, but Rinoa seemed able to tell when he did this without even seeing. "I never knew him as a child," he replied. He wondered how often he'd have to recount his history before Rinoa actually listened to him. Sometimes he wondered why she encouraged him to talk more when she obviously never listened in the first place.

"Oh, but what if maybe you just don't remember. That'd be so sad, do you think maybe you just don't remember him? You'd never forget me would you sweetie?"

Squall chewed on his bottom lip, silently praying to Hyne for patience. Rinoa always meant well, she was truly a sweet young woman, but there were times when he wanted to brush her off or flat out tell her she was being ridiculous.

He could feel her gaze upon him, her head tilted up to stare at his face. Putting on a small smile he replied, "I'll never forget about you. I haven't had GFs junctioned since the final battle. Everything comes back once you're unjunctioned long enough. I never knew President Loire prior to the dreams and meeting him in Esthar."

"Stop calling him that, he's your dad."

Squall cringed automatically. Rinoa had been correcting him all morning, but it was one issue he felt inclined to deal with in his own manner. "He's a total stranger, I'm not calling him dad."

"Then call him father," she suggested, knowing that Squall was probably the sort of person to use such a distant sounding title.

"It's the same thing," the brunet replied a little too tersely for his own good. He felt Rinoa's magic start up once more. He needed to address that problem again. He'd already discussed the idea of her training with Edea or Ellone, maybe seeing Dr. Odine in Esthar, but she'd dismissed him. She reasoned that the magic he felt was her love for him as her knight.

"You know, Seifer always said he wished he'd had a family and that it would be wonderful if he could be reunited with them."

Squall shot Rinoa an incredulous look, but turned away abruptly before she could see it. He'd known Seifer for years, and the former knight harbored nothing but contempt for being abandoned. Unlike most kids at the orphanage, he and Seifer were not victims of war, but of parents who didn't want to keep them. Granted, Squall only recently joined his rival in that depressing category, though somehow it had still been the assumed case.

With an untainted view on the topic, Squall commented, "I bet he also said that you were all the family he'd ever need."

The cogs began working in Rinoa's head, evident by the crinkle in her forehead as her face scrunched up. "How'd you know?" she asked at length.

Biting back a scathing remark, Squall actually shifted his left arm to pinch the bridge of his nose, but stopped when he realized he had a second duffel bag in hand. He was supposed to be in love with Rinoa, but spending his days with her attached to his arm was having the opposite effect.

He needed to set some boundaries before their relationship ended in disaster. A high priority for him was keeping this relationship afloat, because he could not stand to have his sorceress truly upset with him, and neither could the rest of the world.

Rinoa's eyes widened after a few moments, tugging excitedly on Squall's arm, she practically squealed with her revelation. "You and Seifer don't really hate each other do you? Were you guys like secretly really close friends? Did you tell each other stuff like that?"

Mentally, Squall ran the lines through his head. He couldn't outright tell Rinoa that Seifer had obviously lied, most likely to sleep with her. Then again, he didn't feel comfortable lying about the relationship he and Seifer had. They might be civil now that the traitorous knight had returned to Balamb Garden, but they'd never been friends. On the other hand, they'd also never hated one another. In fact, they'd been quite close.

But, Rinoa didn't see that. She saw the romantic and fantastic in everything. Her innocently oblivious nature was endearing to an extent, but when it encompassed the topic of his past, it surpassed its limits.

He didn't like remembering his past, let alone talking about it to others. If he had his choice, he'd have every single Guardian Force junctioned in order to receive that gratifying haze and blur in memories until he couldn't remember his own name.

Settling for a middle ground comment, Squall spoke with a shrug, "We made each other better fighters." Their rivalry was not indicative of anything other than clashing personalities, but it ultimately did make them better fighters.

Slowing his stride, Squall reflected on the quality time he'd spent with Rinoa after less than a quarter mile. "How 'bout I call for a ride?"

"Really?" Rinoa cried ecstatically, releasing the pale boy's arm and twirling around him, her blue knit garment flapping about.

Setting down the bags in hand, Squall shifted the backpack off one shoulder and swung it around to reach a front pocket.

"Oh let me call!" the brown eyed girl requested.

Bright grey eyes studied the cute young woman with suspicion for a moment. Reluctantly, he handed his cell phone over to excitedly grasping hands. His concerns were justified moments later, after Rinoa searched through the bank of numbers he had stored and waited for the call to go through.

"Hello Caroline, my name is Rinoa Heartily. My boyfriend, President Loire's son, was wondering if someone could come out to the old station and give us a lift to…"

Squall wanted to slap his forehead when she looked at him to supply her with the right words. "Presidential residence," he muttered darkly.

"…the presidential residence," she finished. There was a pause before she whirled back around to address the brunet. "Honey, where are we right now? She doesn't know what the old station is."

Leather crunched as Squall balled his fists and tried to create some distraction for himself. "We're roughly one and three quarter miles out from the southwest sector, within visual range of Tarners Platform that leads to Fisherman's Horizon."

Blinking her doe eyes, Rinoa smiled sweetly before holding the phone out for him to take care of.

With a sigh, Squall took the phone and repeated their location. Once he hung the phone up, he remained silent while staring vacantly at the ground. He pocketed the phone, realizing for the first time that the numbers he had stored could not accidentally fall into the wrong hands.

Lips pressed firmly together, Rinoa placed her hands on her hips and glared at the silent man. "Don't you dare close up on me Squall Leonhart. I was just having a little fun, that's what this trip is about."

Squall gave a small nod. He wasn't closing up, just becoming increasingly annoyed. For the sake of their relationship, they needed to spend more time apart. She had her moments, when her sincere caring truly set him at ease. But those moments had been infrequent to begin with and he hadn't experienced one since the war ended.

It was a surprisingly short time before the sound of a car's engine drifted across the flat rocky plain. Turning away from the bright western sky, Squall saw the glinting windshield of a black BMW. He half expected the driver to be Laguna with the reckless manner of speed, seeming to swivel even while following a straight path. A dust trail kicked up behind it, begging another question of how Esthar managed to thrive in an area that must have begun as desolate plains of scorched rock.

Rinoa tensed up, slightly apprehension about the less than formal manner in which their ride approached. She jumped behind Squall and fearfully grabbed the back of his jacket when the car screeched to a halt only a few feet before them.

Squall stood, staring impassively towards the driver's side, unable to clearly see anyone behind the wheel. He waited for a moment, feeling eyes upon himself, before stooping to pick their bags up. On cue, the trunk was popped.

"Come on," he spoke to a cowering young woman clinging to his back.

"What the hell was that?" Rinoa cried, loud enough for anyone in the car to hear.

With a shake of lengthy strands of chestnut hair, Squall stepped forward. He felt the release of his raven-haired girlfriend's grip. He also felt her rising discontent. It was the sort of headache that came as a sharp pang rather than the dull thud when she was trying to woe him into a certain course of action.

He stopped as he passed the back left door. With little effort, he held both duffle bags in one hand, careful to keep the baggage out of Rinoa's way. He reached out and opened to door for her, subtly gesturing for her to get in.

Rinoa's mood suddenly brightened, her stomach fluttering at Squall's gentlemanly gesture. Skipping forward, she round the car, pointedly not looking at anyone in the driver's seat, she pecked Squall on the lips before slipping inside.

As Squall shut the door behind Rinoa, the front driver's seat opened. The first thing Squall spied was the tip of an over polished dress shoe, followed by a leg clad in black slacks. The man who stepped from the car wore a black suite. Every aspect seemed to be consciously mannered to perfection. The white shirt beneath probably didn't have a single wrinkle and that tie probably never came loose.

Squall quickly studied the chiseled features of this man, whose eyes were hidden behind sunglasses. His eyes saw a strong nose that crooked ever so slightly at the bridge, a slightly squared jaw line that was smoothly shaven, and tanned skin. The postured stance he took suggested training, while the feel of calculating eyes upon himself confirmed it.

Before any introductions could be made, Squall stepped away and haphazardly loaded the empty trunk with the bags, which were only enough items to get Rinoa through the week. He'd brought a few changes of clothes as well, but his duffel bag was stuffed with Lionheart's case, leaving little room for much else.

Returning to stand before the unknown man dressed in black, he glanced upwards to meet the hidden gaze. The guy's build rivaled Raijin's, but fell miles short of the Vice President Ward Zabac. It was difficult to place age, as it usually was for anyone involved in the military or Garden. He was obviously built beneath that suit, but there were very faint streaks of grey hairs within precisely trimmed sideburns. The rest of the man's hair was sandy blonde, so it could be a misperception in the bright rays of light that caused him to squint a bit.

The young SeeD and former Commander stared without restraint, waiting to see the man's eyes. He refused to budge until he'd accomplished this much. The broad chest that puffed out as if in challenge did nothing to deter him. After Ultimecia, there weren't many people he found intimidating, at least not in the respect that they might physically harm him.

The palace guard smiled abruptly. Reaching up, he took off his glasses and tucked them inside his suit jacket. Once again locking his eyes onto the fierce and steady gaze of the Balamb Lion's steely irises, he extended a hand.

"James Cranston," he introduced in a baritone and slightly gruff voice. At thirty-four, he'd been skeptical of this boy savior who'd called for a ride to daddy's place. However, there was no mistaking the intensity of those eyes, they practically shined within the light. He gave the kid props for not taking any shit.

With his gloves in place, Squall clasped the larger hand and said, "Squall Leonhart." He stared up into dark brown eyes, so dark they were nearly black. He wished he could feel whether the man's hand was calloused or not.

As it turned out, Squall didn't need to search for any more clues. James Cranston spoke again. "I'm a palace guard, but I've been assigned the special detail of guarding you… and your girlfriend while you're here."

The brunet's initial response was to protest, but then he considered a few extra aspects he hadn't considered. Rinoa was a sorceress. Being in Esthar could prove to hold a few issues that might call for the raven-haired girl's protection around the clock. He certainly couldn't guard her at every hour, he'd go insane and it was quite impossible to actually stay alert without sleep.

With a curt nod, Squall accepted this man for who he was and whatever such a position decreed.

Before their formally dressed guard could turn back to the car, Squall stopped him. "Mr. Cranston," he said as he thought of an important factor.

"Yes?"

"You do know of Rinoa's powers, correct?" It was probably key for whoever watched over Rinoa to know that she was a sorceress.

"Indeed, that's why I'm here." James' dark eyes scanned the boy before him.

Once in the car, Squall realized it was a mistake to sit upfront instead of next to Rinoa. She was sulking the entire way, only ever speaking when James introduced himself. While he received the silence he so enjoyed, it was overshadowed by the headache the raven-haired woman unknowingly gave him.

The drive was longer than Squall thought it was going to be. Probably because they drove through the city to reach the Laguna's ridiculously large residence, which was indeed more like a palace. They weren't headed to the Presidential residence, but rather the Presidential estate. If there was a difference in title it eluded Squall.

By the time the grandiose structured loomed above all other buildings, effectively covering any skyline visible from within the car, that is without looking straight up, Squall was rubbing his temples in a vain effort to assuage the drilling in his mind.

Rinoa was being silent, arms crossed and lips pouted in a sulking manner. It was a wonder that Quistis and all the pale brunet's other friends considered him to be the moody one.

Squall was rather surprised to see Dollet's architectural signature used, a rather foreign sight in such an isolated country. Considering it was President Loire's home, Squall figured that it had been built to his specifications and preferences, which would explain the outside influence.

Wrought iron gates opened to a long, curving drive. There were tall oak trees that gave a sense of privacy, if the fifteen-foot wall of cement surrounding the estate didn't give enough seclusion.

Considering his father had run the country for twenty years and helped foster the most prosperous nation in existence, it was no surprise that such a lavish place served as the President's home.

There was also the Presidential residence, which was where Laguna worked and where he'd been taken to when dealing the Lunatic Pandora. There was probably a summerhouse somewhere outside of the city, maybe an apartment in Deling City for old times' sake.

When James attempted to speak to Squall, the pain flared and Squall was forced to address the matter.

"Rinoa, perhaps we should visit Dr. Odine," the steely-eyed young man suggested with a grimace against the newest level of annoyance his sorceress felt with him.

"What?" the brown-eyed woman cried incredulously. "Is that why you've brought me along? We already discussed this, I do not need to be poked and prodded. I'm not going to go mad and take over the world!"

"It's not the world I'm concerned about," Squall mumbled in reply, hoping his sarcasm was hidden. "Your emotions are controlling your power. Every sorceress needs training, the sooner the better."

Aghast at her boyfriend's words, she stared with her mouth agape. "I can't believe you! I come along with you because I know how much you need me here to support you, and all you can think of is sending me off to some lab. Whatever happened to the man who rescued me from that scientist in the first place?"

"Rinoa," Squall placated with great effort. "Calm down. If you refuse outside help, then you need to learn on your own."

"I never wanted this!" she yelled, tears brimming in her eyes. "I did it for you."

Brows furrowed, Squall tried to recall when he'd been in need of her becoming a sorceress. It wasn't as though she'd turned into a better fighter, she had still sat on the sidelines.

"Do me this favor, as your knight," he spoke softly, turning to regard her earnestly. "When you're not happy it hurts me, but I want you to be safe even when I'm not around. In this city especially, I want you to be capable of fully controlling yourself." He felt like a blubbering idiot at the moment, but he would have gotten down on one knee and proposed, if only to rid himself of the sharpness of her jabbing tendrils of magic.

James coughed, pointedly making his presence known. All was not well in post war paradise, and he didn't need to be in the middle of it. The boy next to him was obviously not experienced with women, probably still growing peach fuzz.

Squall cast a quick glance towards the sandy blonde driver. "At least speak with Ellone, you like her well enough."

"Oh yes, what girlfriend doesn't love to see her boyfriend's adoptive sister hanging all over him? She's nice, but you two seem awfully close considering you're brother and sister."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Squall sighed. This was going nowhere, just like his headache. "Your powers are giving me a headache Rinoa, you need to keep them under control. As your knight I can feel everything."

"What?" she exclaimed, leaning forward and popping her head into the front seat.

"I didn't want you to feel bad, but please learn some control."

"Stop the car!" she cried.

James looked for a confirmation on the order and slowed down upon receiving a small nod from a rather sickly looking boy. The young man's face had grown significantly paler, which couldn't have been healthy given that he was already considerably pale.

They were near the main entrance, not too far off. The car came to an abrupt stop, causing Rinoa to give a slight yelp at being jolted from her seat. In a blur of blue, she was out the door and stalking away. Her steps were faltered as she began going one way and then directed herself to head towards the mansion, apparently realizing she didn't know the city and would get lost after a block of walking.

Squall clutched his head, blinding pain causing his vision to go white as he scrunched his eyes shut and stifled a groan. Rinoa was angry, very angry, and with him.

Concerned, James turned towards the troubled President's son. "Sir," he said as he reached out to examine the boy. "Are you alright?" Nothing appeared to be injured, no head wounds that would indicate why he was clutching his head in anguish.

"Fine," Squall hissed out. "Go after Rinoa," he managed to direct.

"With all due respect, I'm your guard, not hers." When he'd spoken before, he'd represented only one part of the guard detail assigned. In all honesty, he'd seen the reluctance in the kid at having a personal bodyguard, and deftly conformed to the situation at the time.

Grey-blue eyes peered through squinting slits, searching the older man's face for a quick moment. "I'm fine here for a bit, show her to her rooms." The pain eased off ever so slightly and Squall only prayed that Rinoa changed to a happier note soon.

"Miss Heartilly will have someone to watch over her while she stays in Esthar, I am not that person. Are you hurt?" James reiterated.

"No," came the immediate reply along with the sound of the passenger side door clicking open. With staggering grace, Squall stood and closed the door behind himself. It was a mistake to bring Rinoa, he knew that now. She was still stubbornly in denial about what she was and about how easily it affected others, namely him.

Delicate and subtly effeminate features formed a struggling expression of someone trying to appear at ease under physical strain. Squall bit his bottom lip, sinking a canine deeply into the side of it, nearly piercing the soft flesh.

The trunk popped open, but James was hefting the bags out before the blanched brunet could get to them. He was surprised at the weight, never suspecting someone of the boy's stature and lithe frame to be able to swagger the load without hindrance.

Squall was hardly able to absorb the image of the structure in front of him. It must have been seven stories high, almost castle like in its vast size and appearance. Being so close he couldn't see the rooftop, only ornate designs and sculptures looming at the very edge. It was cold grey stone, rough slabs of brick forming the exterior. The main entrance was a long gentle sloping stoop of stairs that Squall took two at a time for the sake of feeling like he had taken a normal step upwards. Sculptured lions reclined on either side of the doorway, acting like guardians in place of gothic gargoyles.

A subtle smile graced Squall's face. He relaxed his expression slightly in order to better open his eyes and take in as much detail before moving beyond. James was a few steps ahead of him, walking right passed the solid wooden door that opened seemingly automatically.

A doorman, clad suspiciously like a butler, offered a hand in carrying the luggage. As an older man of average stature, he was given the lightest item.

With pepper grey hair that was trimmed short, the doorman grinned brightly with slightly crooked teeth. His light blue eyes were faded with a sum of years that Squall instinctively guess to be mid sixties or early seventies. The tail end to the man's old-fashioned suit seemed to characterize him as a piano player from decades ago or a butler from decades ago, either way it was slightly costume like and out of date.

Squall suppressed his urge to glare at his personal guard, no longer tolerant of being babysat now that he knew it was specifically for him. There was also the annoyance of being waited on. Though his brain was being jack hammered, he was perfectly capable of carrying the bags on his own.

The graying greeter extended a knobby knuckled hand, still grinning ear to ear.

Squall shook the man's hand, resigned to pleasantries while on a mission to please.

"I am Harold Portier, overseer of all staff here at President Loire's private estate. Welcome to Esthar, and may I be one of many to thank you for your valiant efforts. I am at your service, young master."

"Squall Leonhart," the brunet replied with a tense jaw. The pain was slowly receding, perhaps due to distance or a calming in the emotional sorceress' mood. It took him another moment to realize how he'd been addressed and exactly what Harold Portier's words had been. He wasn't overly humble, but he'd been hoping to be free of the constant references to his role in Ultimecia's defeat. "I was one of many who helped," he spoke further. "And please, I'm not the young master of anything."

Smiling impossibly wider, Harold gave the surprisingly small young man's hand another shake. The boy before him was nothing like he'd imagined the world's savior being. Shorter and about a hundred pounds lighter than he'd pictured, the President's son was even more pretty than the their long haired leader. With a series of nods, he agreed with the boy's modest words and polite request. "President Loire is detained until four, but he sends his regards and wishes for you to get settled."

"Thank you Mr. Portier." Squall cast a glance towards the expressionless blonde standing nearby. He straightened up to his full height, still falling short of Cranston, but feeling less like the injured dog he was being treated as. "I'll be fine to carry my own bags," he commented.

"Nonsense," Portier dismissed with incredulity. "Your young lady friend was quite enthused to go exploring."

'Enthused?' Squall wonder with a feeling of disbelief. More like too upset to remain in the same vicinity as him. "Which way did she go?" he asked, peering around the expansive entry hall for the first time.

It was both alike and dissimilar to the outside. Black marble laid bare of rugs across the floor, polished to a gleaming shine, but cold nonetheless. The high ceiling opened to the second floor, which winding stairs curved up to. The stark white of the walls contrasted the dark marble and reflected the light of a single hanging chandelier.

Just as he'd feared, there were at least five different directions branching off from the room. Upstairs was an open corridor that led off to two ends. Down on the first floor, where he stood, he spied three doorways.

"I believe Miss Heartilly went upstairs in a huff of excitement sir. I'm not really sure which way. Natalie is with her though, no worries."

"Who is Natalie?" Squall followed up in question.

James spoke up, "Your girlfriend's guard." He kept watchful eyes on the brunet, searching for a reaction.

Squall debated for a moment. Rinoa's rampant magic was nearly gone, urging him not to pursue her and folly it up again. He did his best to listen to her and do what she asked of him, but he usually made her upset. It was becoming the most tiresome relationship he'd ever had to keep up. If he weren't her knight, he might have a chance of convincing Cid that General Caraway's support was not worth the consumption of his time upon the man's only daughter. However, he was her knight and Cid was quite pleased with the popularity his relationship with Rinoa received.

In the end, Squall shook his head, sending already mussed tresses into greater disarray. "Leave her then."

James almost smiled. It might prove entertaining to watch the boy flounder pathetically in this relationship. He'd start a bet with the guys around the estate, to see just how long the President's son could keep his princess happy. Personally, after a brief but close observation, he'd place his money on three days tops. The pair didn't look good together anyway. It was a hopeless discrimination, but the President's son looked like he should be linking arms with another man, not a woman.

The estate was huge, considering it housed a single person. It seemed like a waste. Even for a large family housing several generations, there was far more room left over than would ever be utilized.

Laguna didn't usually stay in what Squall learned was officially titled the Loire Estate, which made the practical brunet think the entire existence of the mansion was pointless.

For all its stone cut exterior and initial appearance of marble, the estate was modern by Esthar standards, and Esthar standards were about fifty years ahead of everything else. It was a unique and rather interesting mesh of traditional and high tech. The doors were not automated as in Garden, and they seemed like simple wooden framed barriers. However, it was not wood or any metal, but some oddity that was interlaced with security systems.

Squall's private quarters locked and unlocked on a fingerprint scanner that was disguised as a simple doorknob. All of the rooms had such systems, but naturally a guest such as himself could control not all of them.


	3. Chapter 3

Living with Heart 

Act III

It was a little after one in the afternoon. Squall lounged without an immediate care in the world, forcing his mind not to dwell on any matter that he didn't have to deal with for at least another couple hours.

Rinoa had traipsed off to the nearest mall, not even seeing him before she left with her guard Natalie Gray. Mr. Cranston had informed him of her departure, receiving a call from Miss Gray.

Squall wasn't sure if he should take her sudden shopping excursion as a good sign or not. Either she'd forgiven him wholeheartedly in sight of fickle moods and the excitement of buying loads of clothes in a foreign country, or she'd decided to give him the silent treatment and distance really was the key to dulling her magic on him.

Whatever the reason, he had a few hours of time to kill before Laguna would be arriving. A part of him was inclined to stay indoors and work on the strategic reports Cid had requested he put together during his time away. However, he'd caught a glimpse of a small courtyard surrounded by the greenest grass he'd ever seen.

It was sunny, but there were trees for shade. It was a hot day, but there was a constant breeze. It was only a couple hours, but it was the first time in a long time that he'd taken the time to relax.

The world seemed to have stopped around him. Eyes closed, he rest his head against his folded bomber jacket turned pillow. Beneath the shade of an odd looking tree of white bark and star shaped leaves of a deep plum color, the brunet lay quietly.

James Cranston had watched in slight confusion as his charge said he was going to spend time in the courtyard, which was actually a garden, but the flowers were further down the pathway that lead off the courtyard.

The blonde guard kept his distance, not exactly picking up on any socializing vibes from the boy, figuring the kid to be the silent type. He'd briefly thought that Squall Leonhart might have been too arrogant to talk with him, a spoiled son who was used to a hired guard standing silently in the shadows, but that wasn't the case.

After showing the pale young man to the northeast wing of the Loire Estate, which the President had reserved solely for the brown haired boy's use, that had been the end of the tour. James didn't think the boy wanted to be there, or something along those lines. The little princess had apparently dragged Natalie all over before declaring they should head into the city to scout the best shops. Natalie was not the shopping type, and for that, James had expressed his deepest sympathies.

He was a fair judge of character when he had enough time to get a handle on people. The pampered princess was one of those people he could classify within the first minute of meeting. This kid Squall though was proving a little troublesome.

So far, he knew the boy wasn't very good with women, suffered from sorceress induced migraines, was stronger than he looked, and was nearly mute. It wasn't much, but as he took a seat on a stone-carved bench approximately twenty feet away, he was steadily adding to his list.

For Squall, the world was still as he remained motionless, simply lying in the grass, arms limp at his sides and head cradled by the worn leather and soft fur collar of his jacket. All at once, time flowed again and the world stirred to life.

Bright grey eyes opened to the blue sky blotted out here and there by dark purple foliage. It wasn't too bright for his eyes to take. The sun was shining from a western angle, whereas he stared at the eastern sky.

He could feel the warmth of light, shaded in areas like a leopard's fur. There was a distinctly sweet scent to the heavy humid air. He couldn't place the sweet smell, but the air held an underlying smell of rain. The humidity was far from unbearable, but surprising given the clear blue skies above.

The breeze reached right to the ground, blowing along trimmed blades of grass and tickling the exposed skin between his plain white t-shirt and black leather pants. Strands of his chestnut hair flopped along his forehead, not really forming to any style and moving around to rest freely with the change of wind.

He imagined he could feel the movement of the earth as it slowing spun. If he were able to spend more time like this, simply lazing about, he might actual enjoy this trip. However, he suspected that before nightfall, he'd receive a few calls from Balamb Garden, requesting he take on a few extra projects.

Cid hadn't gotten back into the swing of being Headmaster again, and Xu had just taken office. Compiling a master book of strategies and logging all battle information on his battles during the war was just the tip of the iceberg. He had a feeling he'd be doing just as much work while he was away than as if he he'd stayed at Garden.

Turning on his side and furling slightly, the pale brunet shifted to a more comfortable position, settling in to spend the next hour just as he was. Given his years of adjustment and experience under far more uncomfortable sleeping arrangements, the belts about his waist and dagger strapped to his thigh went unnoticed.

James sat stiffly, realizing he was in for an uneventful afternoon. There was little cause for worry when they were well within the secure barrier of the Loire Estate. He was more for traffic control, when they were in the heart of the city with enthusiastic citizens crowding and vying for a chance to meet the boy.

It still seemed unreasonable to consider all the stories about this kid to be true.

What sort of weapon was a gunblade?

Tales of the less than masculine boy's fighting feats seemed embellished. A neon sword thing that fired bullets, a single SeeD capable of taking down Adel… it just didn't fit. Then there was Ultimecia, a sorceress even more powerful than the tyrant Adel. There was little more frightening than the reign of terror Esthar was under only twenty-two years ago.

Adel was more masculine than this guy from Balamb, and he was supposed to believe that the sleeping beauty on the grass over there had defeated miss butch herself? Believing that it happened at all was stretch enough.

The minutes ticked by, one after the other, after the other.

James reached a hand up to pull at his collar behind his tie. Wearing a black suit while in direct sunlight was not his idea of comfortable. He was starting to feel the heat.

It was for this reason that the tall man stood and made his way closer to the lame form of his charge. Loire's kid hadn't moved for the past twenty minutes, causing him to suspect the boy to be asleep.

Something he hadn't expected was for the boy to stir suddenly when he was no more than a few steps away. The hand that grasped a knife's handle instinctively did not go unnoticed, however the presence of any weapon in the first place had. Against the inner of a slim thigh, the small black sheath was camouflaged.

"Hope you don't mind," James said, uncertain about the small feeling of elation when a deft hand subtly retracted from the weapon at the sound of his voice.

Squall shifted, propping himself up on an arm and making to sit up. A sharpened gaze wandered the premise quickly, curious as to when he'd actually fallen asleep.

"Don't get up on my account. It's too hot to sit in the sun," the blonde explained amicably.

With a small shake of his head, Squall conveyed that it was fine. "You don't have to watch over me," he mumbled with underlying guilt. He hadn't given any consideration to Mr. Cranston.

"It's my job kid. If I weren't here looking after you, I'd be in the residence looking after someone else or standing stiffly for a four hour shift."

Frowning, Squall glanced up, still half sitting with an arm supporting him. "I'm sorry, we can go back inside," he spoke softly.

James returned the displeased expression, wondering what the pale boy had to be sorry for. Staring up at him like that with sincere regret in those stormy eyes, James felt that the lean brunet suddenly seemed fragile. It was an odd sense, like something had changed within the last few seconds, completely contradicting the direction his observations had been taking him in classifying Squall's character.

Before Squall could make to stand up, the broad guardsman placated with a frantic gesture of hands that he should remain.

"It's nice in the shade," James soothed to an oddly appeasing boy. Striding closer, closing the short distance between them, he plopped down nonchalantly against the trunk of the tree.

Unabashed, Squall stared at his bodyguard for a long moment. He studied the older man's strong features, trying to figure exactly how he'd deal with him. Cid wanted him to secure his father's favor, and had hinted that if he could, make nice with as many well positioned dignitaries as possible. Should that be applied to Mr. Cranston?

Somehow, Squall thought it'd be problematic if he made nice with his bodyguard in the sense that Cid meant him to with high placed officials.

Then again, given that asking Laguna to introduce him to any advisors or congressmen was suspicious, he might need a connection like the one Cranston might have to offer.

Continuing to stare, Squall became unaware of the fact as he was drawn into self reflection. Why did he suddenly feel so reluctant, and dare he admit it, dirty about returning to the form of life he'd lead prior to the war. Were four months of reprieve, which by any sane standards weren't a vacation in the least, enough to make him become as reluctant as all those years ago? Perhaps it was the returning of memories he'd rather forget. He truly needed a Guardian Force, and soon, before it all came back.

James ignored the attention at first, but found himself unable to not return the stare after a minute. He saw an array of fleeting emotions pass through eyes that held an uncalled for anguish.

Squall found that the longer he thought about it, the worse his feeling of dread became. Hyne, he hadn't felt like this since… since he his first time.

In the end, the brunet decided that in Esthar, Cid would be unable to monitor him like usual. He could simply report that for whatever reason, his time could only be spent playing the part of Laguna's son.

The heavy weight in the pit of the Squall's stomach didn't seem to ease, but he felt relieved at the prospect of not resuming his more seedy responsibilities.

Just as James was about to add autistic to his list of observations and inferences, stormy eyes seemed to refocus with a sharpened sense of guard. "You okay?" he questioned, obviously referring to the other's moment of absentee staring.

"Fine," Squall mumbled. If he weren't putting on airs, then the older man would quickly learn that bouts of internal focusing were commonplace for him. Turning as if nothing had happened, Squall settled back on the ground, surprising even himself with his exposing manner of resting with another person so nearby. Then again, wasn't that the point of Mr. Cranston being there in the first place?

It was almost an hour later, when Squall's breathing had slowed and only the soft breeze made any noise that Laguna arrived.

Long hair bound in a loose band, several tendrils had fallen out throughout the day, Laguna stood a at the top of a long bank of stairs. His jade green dress shirt was void of tie and unbuttoned enough to display the hollow of his neck. His cuffs were unbuttoned and the sleeves slightly wrinkled from rolling the material up at various times throughout the workday. In one arm, he held his suit jacket, not having worn it since early that morning.

Hazel green eyes scanned the area, not quite expecting to find his son, who he'd been told was somewhere outside around the northeast wing. He remained in place, hands pocketed in black slacks, jacket hanging limply as a breeze swept along and brushed loose strands along his face.

The fine lines of age were revealed as he squinted slightly, crows feet that could be found on men half his age.

Although it was a beautiful day, not uncommon in Esthar, Laguna hadn't really figured Squall to be the type to enjoy something like sunny weather. Then again, according to Kiros, there was a lot he didn't know about his son.

Spying the form of the young boy, he was further surprised. Was Squall asleep? It didn't seem plausible, but even after blinking several times, his eyes showed him the same sight. He supposed it wasn't shocking. Squall was here without anything to do except wait around for his arrival, so why not spend it outside or take a nap, or both.

Last he'd seen Squall was the day after the celebration ball, and the dark bags under stormy eyes did not seem to be fitting of such a delicate pallor.

Practically skipping down the stairs, not even careful of the steep slope they presented, the President hurried closer. All day long, he'd been detained with his Minister of foreign affairs. There hadn't been a single minute that he hadn't remembered Squall would be at his estate, waiting for him.

Why had that prospect made him almost giddy? Why had the day droned on as if time had slowed, almost torturously keeping him from seeing his son?

Each step closer to that tree, where Squall was curled on his side and the guardsman sat attentively made him feel a little more lightheaded.

James continued to sit idly, finding nothing better to do than think to himself and stare at the young man a couple feet away. At the sound of doors being opened, he glanced towards the courtyard and found President Loire standing at the top of the stoop of stairs that lead inside.

When the President was closer, James stood and saluted. "Sir," he greeted.

Being saluted, Laguna felt uncomfortable, not used to it even after twenty-two years. "Erm, at ease," the longhaired man muttered.

"He's not a soldier," came a soft reply.

Both men who were standing turned their focus to the boy between them.

Squall sat up, glancing up at his father. When he stood, nearly the same height as Laguna, slightly shorter, he held the older man's gaze. Any ideas of how he should be acting were forgotten momentarily as hazel green eyes seemed to be filled with adoration, a truer depth of which Squall had never known.

"I didn't believe you actually came, even after Kiros said you'd arrived," Laguna fumbled excitedly, unable to stay completely still as he wanted nothing more than to give the smaller man a tight hug.

"I said I would come," Squall replied evenly.

"Well, Cid said you'd come. I barely got to see you that day," the President said before quickly adding, "Not that I'm complaining. I know how busy you were."

"Not half as busy as yourself. I hope I'm not cutting in to your time too much," the pale boy replied.

"Not at all!" Laguna exclaimed earnestly. "Something sort of came up unexpectedly, but I've got the rest of this week off."

Squall was beginning to wonder just how Laguna ran an entire country with such ease. The man appeared youthful and vibrant, not the least bit stressed after twenty-two years in office, a job that demanded total attention and no vacation time. Yet, here the raven-haired man was, smiling gaily without a care in the world. It made him feel inept, like the stress he'd felt while Commander was a weakness.

Yet he could not possibly hope to spurn his father for this undeniable strength of character, something he'd failed to notice behind the more obvious klutzy qualities. Those eyes seemed so innocent, so happy. It was a certain gleam he hadn't seen in the mirror since his older sister had been sent away. Somehow, it was refreshing.

"I hope it's alright that I've brought Rinoa," Squall said seriously, recalling that the invitation had been for him, neither including nor excluding guests.

Laguna's smile seemed to falter ever so slightly. "Any friend of yours is welcome," the older man replied. In truth, he was a bit downtrodden that he didn't have his son all to himself. But considering the aloof nature of the boy, he was counting his blessings that it had worked out this far.

It was a little awkward. But, Squall figured their first night would be spent making small talk, like on a first date. There was only so much they actually knew about each other. If Rinoa returned soon, then he might not have to worry about the odd absence of speaking on his part. Then again, he might be forced to speak at great lengths to keep her happy.

* * *

It was during a rather informal dinner of takeout in the kitchens that the issue was raised.

Laguna, who was seated on a stool, had apologized for any inconvenience, but figured his son for the type that didn't care for dining formalities. The President had explained that for the three of them, dining in the proper room would have been uncomfortable and unnecessary.

Rinoa was quite upset about not having a whole staff of cooks on hand, brashly asking what sort of lifestyle the President of Esthar lead that had him preferring eating from cartons at an island counter in an empty kitchen.

For Squall, who generally just grabbed an apple or energy bar for his meals, the setting was fine. He had other issues on his mind anyway.

It was the greatest relief and the first highlight to learn that he and Rinoa would not be sharing a room. In fact, they weren't even in the same wing.

The raven haired young woman was not happy about that at all, calling on her knight to defend her stance on premarital sharing of the bed, which they hadn't even done back in Balamb, but she assumed would be okay away from prying eyes.

Having known his place, Squall had remained silent, picking away at a carton of lo mein.

"I don't see the big deal Laguna," Rinoa placated, "If you're okay with it, then why not let us be together?"

Increasingly frantic about causing any friction between someone Squall cared about, the longhaired president wasn't exactly sure how to put his foot down on the matter. "Estharian tradition is very complex, different from anywhere else."

"But you said that most people have outgrown that," she pointed out, seemingly unaware of the circular arguing they had going.

"Rinoa," Squall interjected hesitantly. "As the president's son, certain traditions are expected to be upheld."

"But I'm like a mile away from you," she pouted, "How can you agree to this?"

Squall sighed in dejection as his headache intensified. "It's like a formality," the brunet tried again.

"A formality!" she accused angrily, "Is that what I am to you?"

"No," Squall asserted quickly, learning from the last time what came next. He could do without the blinding pain. "It's just like structural partitioning, it doesn't dictate where you have to sleep." What exactly was the big deal? Her room wasn't near him, but that didn't mean she couldn't stay with him, or vice versa.

The silence permeated the large kitchen. There was an odd understanding between father and son, an understanding that they both had no clue. They looked at each other with some sort of connection between them. Steely blue eyes stared into hazel green, both seemed to be wondering the same question; was she going to start yelling or was she satisfied?

"You want me to sneak into your room like some mistress?" Rinoa hissed, her voice shaking with anger as her eyes brimmed with tears.

Suddenly the highlight of Squall's trip turned into a nightmare. There was no build up, unless the dull headache counted. All at once a white light seemed to flash before his eyes, blinding him as searing pain shot through him. It wasn't just the jabbing needles in his head, but rather his whole body suddenly felt like it had submerged twenty thousand leagues under the sea. The air was forced from his lungs, his heart rate rapidly declined, as it became such a struggle against the vice like grip to give off a beat.

Lame chopsticks fell from his hand, clattering lightly to the counter top. Unable to make any noise, it wasn't until he attempted to stand up and crumpled to the ground that his predicament became apparent.

"Squall!" Laguna cried, leaping from his seat so quickly that the stool overturned.

"Oh my god, Squall!" Rinoa chimed hysterically, frozen in a panic. She watched as her boyfriend curled up and writhed in pain, unable to believe it was happening.

In a swooping flutter, Laguna crouched over his son's form. "Get a doctor!" he yelled, seemingly to no one, perhaps Rinoa. There had to have been at least one bodyguard in the room or within hearing range.

James was already on his phone, making a second call for Dr. Odine specifically.

"Stop it!" Rinoa cried at her boyfriend, "This isn't me! Just stop it!" She refused to believe that this was her fault, dreading the idea that her moods really affected her knight so negatively. This wasn't at all like it should be.

Squall tried to take a gasping breath, unconcerned that it felt like all his ribs had broken. He needed air, but his chest was being crushed. He couldn't think, no rational thought forming amidst the blinding pain in his head.

The sandy blonde guard stalked closer from an open doorway, his strides calm and measured. He walked right passed the President and incapacitated son towards the hysterical young sorceress. Beneath his calm demeanor, his nerves were rather jittery considering he was approaching a sorceress.

In a deft jab of his fingers, striking in just the right pressure point, he put the girl into an unconscious state. He was careful as he caught her and set her limp form on the floor, propped against the wall.

The effect was immediate, just like the initial onslaught.

Suddenly able to breath, Squall gulped in air, but coughed it right out as his lungs protested the expansion. A lurching pain came over him, as if punched in the gut right after scarfing down hotdogs like Zell. However, the meager contents he'd eaten throughout dinner thus far were not what he choked back down. The coppery tang of blood filled his mouth. His lips and hand were coated with it as he couldn't help but continue coughing.

Clambering to his knees, Squall ignored the gripping hands at his shoulders. "M'fine," he managed between coughs. His vision danced, but it was a lightheaded blur that would pass once his breathing returned to normal.

"Gods, you're coughing blood," Laguna muttered. He was torn between the distant rift he felt between the type of persons he and Squall were. Aside from his hands upon narrow shoulders, he'd never touched to boy in so much as a hug. He was ashamed to hesitate because he feared Squall didn't want him any closer than an arms length shake of the hand or pat on the shoulder.

The hesitation was fleeting, his concern overwhelming him. Hardly considering his son to be fine, he steadied the boy as they slowly rose.

Squall found himself pressed against a firm chest, his balance set for him. Able to react for the first time, he fumbled for the small thin vile of hi-potion held in his belt. Before he could uncap it, it was taken from his hands.

Laguna had the potion from his son no sooner than the boy fumbled for it. His hand was steady and deft. He uncorked the vile of clear liquid with the underused technique of gripping the small stopper with his teeth. With one arm wrapped around the lithe frame of the brunet, he brought the potion to blood stained lips.

If Squall hadn't been occupied with his breathing, he'd have refused the older man's help. However, at the cool feel of the magic infused liquid being poured passed parted lips, he drank. Swallowing down traces of blood and hi-potion, it was naught five seconds before the only trouble he had was shortness of breath, which was cured easily enough by simply breathing.

"Rinoa," Squall said, pushing away from the older man who held him.

Angry as Squall thought he should be over the unconscious state of his sorceress, he couldn't help but feel relief. And because of that relief he felt guilty beyond measure. She was sweet and innocent, everything he wasn't. She deserved so much more than a used knight like himself. If she didn't seem so smitten with the fairytale idea of having him as her knight, then it wouldn't be such a great difficulty to break it off. General Caraway would understand, but she never would.

Squall carried the raven haired woman back to her room, closely followed by a red haired woman named Natalie, James, and his father.

"Maybe we should wait for the doctor," Laguna suggested as his son shifted to hitch the dark haired sorceress higher. Squall wasn't that much bigger than the unconscious young woman. He couldn't imagine she was very light, at least not for someone of the brunet's stature.

"She'll be fine once she wakes up," Squall mumbled. He raked a soft gaze over Rinoa's relaxed face. She looked even more innocent while sleeping. It suddenly seemed terribly wrong for him to be anywhere near her.

"I meant for you," the President corrected.

It took a moment for the softly spoken words of the President to settle in. "Me?" Squall questioned, coming to a full stop and regarding the longhaired man incredulously.

"Yes," Laguna asserted, still firmly set in his resolve to play a part in Squall's well being, if only for this instance. The boy looked sickly pale, more than usual. It was distressing after watching the brunet cough up blood.

If the raven haired President didn't know any better, he'd say the mere idea of wanting to call a doctor was an unknown concept to Squall, as if the boy didn't know where to begin.

"No, I'm…" Squall hesitated, quite unused to the look of absolute caring and concern focused on himself. "I'm fine," he finally managed, shaking head to rid himself of his momentary lapse. "The potion took care of it all."

Before Squall could turn to continue down the high ceiling corridor, James spoke up. "This is not the first time she's gotten out of hand. As her knight, it's your duty to keep her under control."

Squall shot the broad framed bodyguard a sharp glare. "You're lecturing me on how to be a knight?"

"She doesn't listen to you," James shot back, finding that this was a serious issue, being the greatest threat to his charge's life.

"Maybe I should take her," Natalie suggested. In the dimness of the hall, lights off for the sake of energy conservation, her bobbed hair looked maroon instead of its brighter crimson color.

"Could you handle her?" Squall asked incredulously, eyeing the redheaded woman with disbelief. Her frame looked smaller than Rinoa's.

"On my back, no problem," Natalie assured. Her suit was tailored to fit her and purposely hide any muscle definition that might allude to her body structure. As a palace guard, she could handle more than most people, SeeD included, even if she didn't look like it.

Shaking his head, Squall refused the offer. He found that he was a little upset at Mr. Cranston's words, feeling scolded for neglect. "I'm taking her to see Dr. Odine tomorrow," he said as though it had already been planned.

"He's on his way now, why not tonight?" James questioned, testing to see how serious the kid was.

Jaw clenching, Squall felt as if he were being forced into it now. However, when he began to fear the consequences of Rinoa's wrath, he realized just how imperative the situation was.

"Very well," the young man replied tersely, turning to continue walking.

* * *

An hour later, Squall reluctantly closed door to Rinoa's room. Following the doctor's orders, he was to leave her alone, the danger apparently too great. The fact that Odine had used the phrase 'grave peril' was something of a shock for the former Commander. Granted, the episode in the kitchen was certainly only a glimpse of what could happen, it still was surprising that Rinoa could be a threat to him, not after all their time together.

"Squall," came the slightly distant call of President Loire.

For Squall, who had been gently leaning against the double doors, the sudden inward opening of both solid barriers sent him stumbling back. Before he could turn to correct his balance, he found himself pressed against the longhaired man's hard chest for the second time that night.

"You should have woken me up," Laguna said, finding that he was far less conscious of saying the right thing when he was still half asleep.

Caught at an odd moment, or what should have been odd given their proximity, Squall found himself mumbling an apology without even thinking about it. His mind was preoccupied, rather alarmed that his body was responding to the feel of the older man's warm chest. It was slight, but he recognized it for what it was, almost unwilling to admit it.

Head bowed, the brunet stepped back, blushing and loath to reveal it.

The President had dozed in one of the plush armchairs within the large bedroom, tired from a long day and the monotonous droning of Odine's observations. It wasn't like him to fall asleep so easily, but lately his schedule had been grueling, leaving an old man such as himself want for extra hours of sleep.

"Are you feeling okay?" Laguna questioned with concern, daring to reach out and nudge the boy's chin higher.

Laguna felt compelled to do it, simply riddled with his feelings over having a son and the recent heart stopping fright he'd been given little over an hour ago. However, when his thumb strayed without his mind's consent, stroking along the soft skin of the young man's jaw he realized there were underlying reasons for his initiation of contact.

Squall felt as though he'd been petrified, completely incapable of movement. He wasn't frightened, just uncertain. In all his life, he'd only ever been shown one type of affection. It was the same affection that someone like Laguna Loire could not possibly have for him, yet he knew better than anyone how to read the signs.

"Do you…" Squall whispered softly, barely moving his pout lips. He stopped himself before he went too far, asking if the older man wanted him. 'Do you want me?' he asked silently in his head.

"Do I what?" Laguna asked, finding himself entranced by stormy blue eyes as a heated shiver work its way up his spine. Why did he feel like this young SeeD knew more about the odd emotions stirring within him than he did?

Biting his bottom lip in a moment of scrambled thought, the brunet tried to reason proper words to take the place of his real question. "Do you care?" he questioned instead, finding that it was possibly the second boldest question he could have asked, boarding on a fine line, dependent upon his tone of voice. Most things could be said with innumerous meanings, from serious to playful or from seductive to chastely curious.

Laguna felt his heart beat rapidly, hurting when he realized why his son might doubt his sincerity. "Of course!" he rushed to impress the fact, speaking a little loudly and once again not really considering his general anxiety over behavior that might run the boy off. "I know I have no right to start being your dad now, and no real reason to care, but I do. Hyne help me, but I'm a foolish old man with too many regrets, and I can't help but long to start over."

A little startled, Squall found himself staring wide eyed, not sure what to make of the older man's proclamation. He didn't know why, but he felt a little hurt that on the President's agenda he was just some pitiful attempt to correct past mistakes. He hadn't come to think of himself as anything more to the older man, so why did he suddenly feel resentful of the fact?

"You said I was better off," Squall muttered, tearing his eyes from the President's gaze and staring at the man's chest. He noticed that the usually informal man had unbuttoned the dark blue dress shirt a bit, revealing more than just the stern hollow of his collar, but a bit of that chest he'd been pressed against only moments before. For a man pushing fifty, the former soldier was surprisingly toned, making Squall wonder if there was a daily routine behind it.

"I know," Laguna whispered, feeling as though their conversation that night of the celebration had picked right back up. "You were better off than to be with someone like me," he affirmed. "But I'm selfish Squall, you have no idea how selfish I am."

Uncomprehending blue-grey eyes rose to once again stare into unguarded hazel green ones. It was a mystery how this man had done all of what he had with Esthar and the first sorceress war, and yet remained as innocent as a child. There was no mistaking the open innocence in those eyes. Squall knew that was not something a person could fake.

"Selfish?" the brunet questioned, secretly trying to distract himself from dwelling on matters such as how attractive the President was, not exactly masculine but not nearly as effeminate as himself.

Once again, Laguna remembered that he was trying to be mellower. The young boy was rumored to hold distain for most every character quality he had. His own observations informed him of the radically introverted nature of this former Commander, knowing for himself that it was complete opposition to his own. That was the reason for his anxiety over thinking before he acted or spoke, knowing he needed to tailor his behavior to better suit the younger man.

He felt as though he were trying to keep a ball form rolling down a slope, knowing it was unstable but not willing to set up barriers and box it in. He couldn't force Squall to accept him, or even be around him more than the few hours they'd already shared at his estate. Yet, he was desperate for more, wanting so much more than he deserved and anxiously stepping on pins and needles to not screw up.

"I know I'm probably not someone you like to be around, but please give me a chance. I'm selfishly begging you, please."

Brows furrowed, Squall wasn't sure what to say. In general, he didn't like to be around anyone, it wasn't like this man before him was exceptionally unpleasant. In fact, quite the opposite, or at least opposite to what he'd expected he'd feel after spending his first day there.

"What exactly do you want from me?" Squall queried, now knowing that the President wasn't after him for his connection with Garden, but some sort of paternal bond.

Dejectedly, Laguna averted his eyes to the floor, staring off to the side in silence. "I don't know," he admitted. Swallowing thickly, he fought the rising burning in his eyes, knowing that tears would drive every last nail into his coffin. "I brought you here for something, but I don't know what it is yet. Knowing you're my son means so much to me, but I don't understand it."

"It's okay," Squall said softly, sensing the older man's distress. The last thing he wanted to do now was put on an act, consoling his father in a way he'd learned to do for so many others. Yet, he found that as the emotional President became increasingly distressed, he couldn't help but search for soothing words. "I'll admit that I'm here because Cid suggested it, but I don't feel like a prisoner. I'm here for however long you'd like me to stay." Upon second thought, Squall added, "Within reason of course, I do have to return at some point."

Laguna chuckled at this, wondering if the boy could read his thoughts.

"Then you'll indulge my selfishness?" the longhaired man asked with a note of finality.

"Certainly," Squall replied, even chancing a tiny smile, barely an upward tug of his lips.

In a calculating manner, Laguna searched the eyes of his son, this rumored SeeD that was actually becoming a legend even among Estharians who were rarely impressed by anything. He thought he could die a happy man in that moment, foolishly giddy over the nearly imperceptible smile on the boy's beautiful face.

Gulping, Laguna reacted instinctively, later praying that Squall's indulgence would encompass his more brash tendencies. In a swift movement, he gathered the smaller young man in his arms.

The lack of struggling resistance only encouraged the longhaired man to wrap his arms around the aesthetically deceiving SeeD, seemingly a fragile boy of surprising beauty. He shivered at the feel of soft breath ghosting his neck, wondering how close pout lips were to touching his flesh.

Laguna didn't know how long it lasted, only that it ended far too soon.

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

Warning: The sexual content mentioned in the first chapter, yeah, well… it's here.

Living with Heart

Act IV

Tossing in bed, the emotionally strained President churned every thought over in his head. He was finding it more difficult to ignore the whirlwind of emotions that were associated with Squall.

He mostly thought about the brief hug he'd given. It might not have been brief at all, his mind had been lost and his senses thrown.

A small part of him had relished the feel of Squall's body pressed close ever since their shortly cut dinner. It was perhaps disgraceful that he had indeed felt more than just worry while the boy choked on air and blood, but he'd be lying to say he hadn't enjoyed it.

There was a cold sense of loss when they'd parted ways that night. Laguna imagined that he could still smell the leathery and woodsy fragrance, a scent he found intoxicating and that had nearly caused him to bury his face in the boy's silky hair. It was like sandalwood, addicting in its faintness and foreign arbor to Esthar.

Maybe it was because they shared genetics, but Laguna felt as though Squall's body was made to fit against his own.

Such thoughts were terribly difficult to keep clean, causing the President to wallow in shame and guilt. How could he possibly be sexually attracted to Squall? It was sick. At least the principles behind it made it so.

In reality, it didn't feel filthy or necessarily terrible. It felt warm and arousing, alluring with dark pleasure. It was very dark, in the deep recesses of his mind, where he only ever dwelled on within the privacy of his own bedroom. To even think such dark thoughts while around another person, especially Squall, was too risky. What if someone read his thoughts, or saw it in his eyes as he gazed with growing lust at the former Commander.

While it didn't turn him off, the shame and guilt still plagued him. He was ashamed that he could be so dishonorable and have such twisted thoughts. It was almost horrific of him to have cast the young man away at birth and then to step back in now and harbor feelings of lust. He was guilty over his lack of will power to ignore his thoughts. He was further guilty because he played host to impossible scenarios, adding to his misdeeds by not resolving to rid himself of his growing infatuation.

He was a sick man, to lie in bed with images of Squall running through his mind. He was far worse than those men at the celebration party, talking about the seventeen year old boy as though some male whore.

Laguna's stomach fluttered at the thought of Squall being a whore, wanton and loose with that perfectly sculptured body.

With a soft groan, the longhaired President shifted on his bed. His mind was somewhere between sleep and being awake, finding that the most vivid images formed the closer he was to unconsciousness.

Slowly, a seeking hand tossed the thick covers aside. Calloused fingertips trailed over the still toned ridges of defined abs, not nearly as washboard as they'd been twenty years ago, but he still worked out.

With a small gasp, consciously realizing what he was doing, he snaked his left hand beneath the elastic band of his baggy flannel pants and boxers beneath. In the darkened room, he kept his eyes closed in a lethargic haze of arousal, still drifting. Only being half awake made it excusable to start jerking off with images of Squall in his head. If he wasn't fully awake, then he couldn't take the blame for his subconscious.

As he gently grasped his soft organ, feeling the sensitive flesh slide within his loose fist, he pictured plush lips. The very same lips that he'd seen smile at him, a small and subtle movement, enticing and arousing. What would those lips feel like against his own, nibbling his neck, sucking on his penis. He could only imagine.

It only took a few stimulating strokes before his swelling length was completely hard. He was careful to manage his strokes, his hand wasn't the softest source of pleasure, nor the most lubricated.

The sudden knocking at the door in the other room was startling and quite annoying. Groaning at the intrusion, he didn't realize his unseemly predicament until he sat straight and felt his penis spring up, gravity having no effect.

Shimmying off to the side, he clambered to his feet and staggered across the bedroom and out into the seating room to answer the call. A stream of curses left him when he ran into a stray ottoman, narrowly avoiding the armchair that went with it.

When he was near enough, he called out, "Who is it?" There were only a couple possibilities. It was either his guard with urgent summons or Squall. The only person allowed to call at any hour was his son, who he highly doubted would be knocking on his door at two in the morning.

"It's Squall," came a near inaudible reply.

Hazel green eyes widened.

Suddenly feeling jittery, flushing deeply, Laguna found his hand shook as it reached for the door handle. To face his son with an erection that came from picturing the young man was certainly not his greatest moment in life.

Taking a steadying breath, he turned the handle and cracked one of the doors open just enough to peek his head out. It was rather dark, giving him the chance that even if he stood before Squall, his tenting groin would go unnoticed.

"Something wrong?" the longhaired man asked a little gruffly, not feeling up for midnight chats when a certain part of his body needed dire attention.

The brunet began biting that pout bottom lip again, a habit of the boy's Laguna had picked up on. It was a habit that caused his cock to twitch. 'In death, I'll be punished for this,' the President thought.

Feeling oddly confident around the boy for once, Laguna waited for a reply without worry over seeming rude for not letting the boy in right away.

"I just wanted to see you," Squall admitted shyly, "Can I come in?"

Cringing at the response he knew he had to give, Laguna tried to sound as regretful as possible. "It's almost two Squall. I have to stop by the office around seven."

"Please," Squall persisted, gazing up imploringly, his big innocent eyes gleaming in the trace amounts of illumination coming from the tall windows lining the corridor outside. "Will you let me stay with you tonight?"

Choking on nothing but air, Laguna forgot if he should inhale or exhale, not certain a person could even forget how to perform such an involuntary bodily function. "What?" he asked incredulously, inwardly cursing at the fast beat of his heart and the pulsing feel of his sore cock as it responded to the younger man's soft voice.

"I'm a knight," the brunet explained, "I can't sleep alone like this. Odine won't let me near Rinoa. Please, I need company."

Laguna knew of the bond between sorceress and knight, but he couldn't recall that it had such immediate effects. It seemed odd that a single night would leave Squall with the hollow feeling of abandonment over not being with his sorceress. It was certainly a legitimate symptom, just not proper circumstances.

"I'm not exactly decent," Laguna hinted, willing to jerk off in the bathroom and then allow the brunet inside.

"I'm SeeD, it's nothing new."

Laguna searched those enchanting eyes, finding them beautiful even without the proper lighting to see the unique grey-blue coloration. He didn't think the pale boy understood. He was quite embarrassed to reveal himself, not wanting to spell out that he had a major hard on and needed to relieve it. "I'm a little more than indecent," he tried again, wondering if Squall could see how deeply he blushed.

With a small shake of mussed hair, the brunet expressed that it wasn't a problem.

Sighing, Laguna opened the door. "Give me a few minutes," he muttered before turning from the open doorway to head towards his bedroom.

The sudden feel of warmth pressed against his back almost caused him to yelp in surprise.

"I know it's bothersome, but please don't leave," Squall begged, a desperate whimper escaping the boy as his head pressed against Laguna's bare back.

"Squall," Laguna gasped, feeling shivers wrack his body. To feel the young SeeD pressed to his back, to feel the needy clinging of arms that held onto him. It sent him spiraling to a place of dark wants.

Tearing away, the raven haired man spun around, roughly grabbing onto elegantly narrow shoulders and shaking the brunet. "Do you understand what I mean by indecent?" he demanded.

Confused and slightly frightened eyes stared at him, far too innocent in comparison to the tainted thoughts in Laguna's head.

Jaw clenched, Laguna pulled the brunet closer, pressing his bulging erection against the younger man's body. "Do you understand now?"

The last thing in the world that Laguna was expecting was for Squall to moan and droop against his shoulder, gently nudging beneath his chin. "I understand," the boy assured, nearly giving the older man a heart attack upon rocking against the straining cock.

At a loss for words, Laguna was frozen in a mixture of shock and pleasure as Squall continued to rock against him, soft panting moans sounding every so often. "Wh-what are you doing?" he managed to asked in a husky voice of disbelief.

"Do you want me to help you take care of it?" Squall asked in turn.

Laguna couldn't help but question, "What?"

"I can suck you off," the brunet replied right away, giving a swirling lick of his tongue to the President's neck.

"Squall!" Laguna cried, stepping away.

Squall sauntered forth, almost stalking the older man as he blindly staggered backwards. "It's okay, I know you want me to."

"What?" Laguna questioned, his voice cracking.

"Watch out for the chair," Squall warned.

Not processing the boy's warning quickly enough, Laguna found himself sprawled sideways in an armchair. Just as he managed to straighten himself out, the brunet was upon him.

Squall was kneeling before him, stroking his thighs. As one hand strayed far enough up, it brushed over the tent in his pants, causing him to throw his head back and groan. Before he could comprehend what was happening, the boy parted his legs and sidled closer.

"Squall," the President said in warning. "You're my son," he was at a loss for what else to say, pointing the fact out as if it had accidentally slipped the boy's mind.

"And you're my father," Squall returned, reaching out to tug at the waist of his navy blue pajama bottoms.

While Laguna's was horror stricken, he couldn't help but remain still, knowing this was exactly what he'd begun to fantasize about. "Esthar might have some traditions you're not used to, like gay marriage and professional paintball, but we generally have the same customs for parenting. Parents don't do this sort of thing with their children."

"Paintball?" Squall snickered.

"Yeah," Laguna defended, his voice almost squeaking regardless of being forty-seven years old. "Holy Hyne!" he exclaimed when the brunet grasped his length and leaned forward. He thought he might orgasm right then.

"It'll feel good," Squall assured, stroking the President.

Laguna gulped, never having been pleasured in such a way. He knew of oral sex, specifically fellatio, but he'd never experienced it for himself. At the feel of the younger man's tongue, teasing him torturously as it lapped at the head of his penis, he nearly cried out.

Suddenly, it didn't matter where the boundaries should be set, it only mattered that Squall continued. Laguna encouragingly placed his hands on the boy's head, grasping lightly at silky hair. "Hyne," he breathed as a shutter wracked his body.

In sweet submission, he found his leaking member surrounded by wet heat. He watched in fascination as the brunet bobbed his head, gently sucking on him. Though he couldn't see the gyrating tongue, he could feel it at the underside of his engorged organ, slipping about in a manner indescribably pleasurable.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head when the boy seemed to swallow his length, gripping the sensitive head of his penis so delicious that he began to shake from the pleasure it brought. Before he knew what he was doing, he'd gripped Squall's head and began thrusting into the boy's mouth. He couldn't stop, it felt too good to ever stop.

In his days as a soldier, it had been a running joke that he was too much of a gentleman to deserve having the dick of a playboy. He was well hung, certainly not big enough to set any records, but large enough to earn respect from the seniors in his newbie years.

It seemed amazing how he deeply he could thrust, certainly sending his cock down the boy's throat, yet Squall simply moaned and gave shallow breaths, accepting it all. Sometimes, when brushing his teeth he gagged, so he couldn't imagine how Squall did it. But, such concerns were fleeting as he felt his balls clench up and prepare to ejaculate.

"Fuck yes," he hissed, feeling he was close. He kept thrusting into that wet cavern, possessed with lust as he saw his dick pumping in and out of the boy's mouth.

The armchair protested, being pushed onto two legs every time the raven-haired President thrust upwards. Each time he pulled out, the chair fell back to the floor, thudding against the carpet.

Suddenly, the thudding of the chair began to sound like knocking.

* * *

Hazel green eyes suddenly opened, the light of morning flooding in far too brightly for the President's wishes. Feeling hot and sweaty, Laguna cast aside the thick down comforter that spread across the large king sized bed. It was with trepidation that he saw his engorged cock protruding from his loose cotton pants, painfully begging for release.

The realization that it had all been a dream did nothing to lessen the shame from it. His body had reacted, which was a real response. He was a sick, sick man.

When had he come to despise himself? He was no saint, carrying burdens from his past discrepancies. Being a loved ruler, kind and fair, did not make him perfect. He was a man who'd abandoned his children, he'd killed many men as a Galbadian soldier, and now he had developed incestuous fantasy for his son.

Further more, Squall was only seventeen, at least for another month. While Estharians were adults at sixteen, Squall was from Balamb, making him underage for all sexual activities.

The knocking just outside his bedroom door sounded again, the visitor was already inside his quarters.

Frowning, Laguna looked around his bedroom. No, this wasn't his familiar room at the palace, but the general set up was similar. It was smaller, though by no means inadequate.

He was still groggy, finding that his mind wandered until he was frozen in shock at the sound of Squall's voice.

"Laguna?" Squall called out, unwilling to move further into the President's rooms until invited. As it was, the guard outside the door had instructed him to simply go on in, telling him the President should be waking up soon. He'd been knocking for the past couple minutes, seriously doubting that the man was there at all.

Frantically, Laguna yanked the bedding close to his body, hiding himself for fear the boy might step in and see him. "I'll be right there!" he answered in distraught franticness, searching about as though for a means of escape. "Let me get dressed!" he called again, realizing there was a bathroom connected to his bedroom.

Clambering off the bed, he sorely hobbled to the bathroom, finding it difficult to walk when his rock hard length was so ragingly ready for release.

Once within the safe reaches of the pristine white marbled bathroom, Laguna locked the door behind himself. Sighing heavily, he let the panic wash away, feeling for the first time a little pleasure over having an erection.

Groaning, he walked to the shower, opening its clear glass door and turning the water on. Directing the spray against the far wall, he began to stroke himself. He felt as though he'd just committed murder, guilty as sin. That dream had certainly put to rest any doubts or pathetic attempts of assuaging his conscience. He was lusting after Squall.

Licking his lips, he shuffled to stand with his feet wider apart. Closing his eyes, he wallowed in his guilt and brought forth images of his dream, imagining that Squall was sucking him off again.

It didn't take much. Ribbons of cum shot forth, coating his pumping hand and the wall he aimed for. The spray of water washed the pearly white essence away, swirling the evidence of his dirty deed down the drain.

After washing his hands and cleaning up a little, he hurried back to his room to jump into a pair of jeans. None of his usual stuff was here yet, only a few pairs of recreational clothes on hand. Shrugging into a light green dress shirt, he fumbled with the buttons as he rushed to see Squall.

He didn't want to keep the boy waiting any longer.

Squall paced the outside room, hands clasped behind his back in impatience. He stopped when Laguna finally appeared. From mussed raven tresses that fell loosely to the half dressed manner, it was obvious the man had been sleeping deeply. He felt a little guilty over disturbing the President.

Grey-blue eyes roved the older man's exposed chest, catching sight of it before the shirt was buttoned all the way. Squall hadn't expected the former soldier to be in such good shape, figuring the presidency was more likely to add a few pounds and ruin the fighter's body. However, the toned chest and defined six pack were something of a surprise, never guessing it would have been beneath all those heavy robes and suits.

"I'm sorry," Laguna said, his tone so severely regretful that he feared Squall might suspect what he'd truly been up to.

Brows furrowed, Squall remembered that the longhaired man was prone to appeasing everyone, not unlike himself, and probably took it to heart that he'd taken so long. "It's fine," the brunet assured, afraid the older man might cry or something equally unpleasant. "I needed to see you," he explained his presence.

Hazel green eyes widened slightly, suddenly flashing to the sequence of images from his dream. His heart beat faster, almost expecting Squall to offer to give him a blowjob.

"Dr. Odine won't let me near Rinoa. You're the only authority here that overrides his."

Considering it was ludicrous to expect the impossible fantasy of his dream to come true, Laguna was surprised he felt disappointed at his son's words. The brunet hadn't even come to see him as a father, but as the President.

Nervously scratching behind his ear, tucking stray strands of long hair back, Laguna questioned, "Did Odine say it was too dangerous?"

"It doesn't matter," Squall stated harshly, cutting the air with his hand. "I'm her knight, if she wakes up without me there…" he trailed off, ashamed to admit he was more concerned about the pain she might cause him for not being at her side, rather than the lonely fear she might feel.

"Is it always like this?" Laguna asked, taking a step forward as he glimpsed fear in those pretty eyes.

Squall clenched his jaw, unwilling to admit how adversely his relationship with Rinoa had come to affect him in such a short period of time. Something always had to go wrong in his life. But, maybe it could turn out for the better. If Rinoa learned to control herself, then he wouldn't have to put up with her constant nudging tendrils, giving him headaches and pushing him to be someone he wasn't.

"It's not like anything," Squall stated with an impassive shrug.

Hazel green eyes studied the prominent shadows beneath the boy's eyes. Laguna found himself becoming angry. He also found that he was less anxious around the boy, having confidence in the fact that Squall had agreed to indulge his want for becoming closer, feeling as though his moments of klutziness and his bumbling nature would also be indulged.

"You look tired," he commented, purposely straying off topic.

Squall's head shot up, feeling as though something had just changed. The tone of Laguna's voice was different, more assertive and smooth. It took a moment for the brunet to understand what it might be. Laguna Loire might come off as a goofball who cared too much about the world, but beneath that exterior was a man who ran an entire nation. There were probably many sides to this longhaired President that he knew nothing about.

A prickling remembrance of the older man's anger came to mind. Just outside the ballroom in Balamb, Laguna had raged about letting Caraway and Zimmer talk about him in such a distasteful manner. That had been the first time he'd questioned whether there was more to the man than met the eye.

"I am tired," Squall muttered. He felt inexplicably drawn to speaking with this man, wondering how many of his assumptions were false and wanting to find out more.

Laguna had the distinct impression that the boy had stayed up all night, probably pining over his raven-haired girlfriend. Jealousy began to mix with his anger. He didn't even know what he was angry about. Though he knew quite well what he was jealous of.

Stepping closer, Laguna felt like he was on autopilot. He knew it was bold and unwarranted, yet he couldn't help it. Reaching out, he drew the small-framed young man into a hug.

Squall wasn't quite sure how to react, not believing the older man was indeed going to hug him until he felt the solid press of that familiar chest. He wondered if the President had some sort of affinity for hugs. Perhaps the man was trying to express fatherly affection, mimicking the sort of actions that were considered appropriate behavior.

Still, Squall felt that there was nothing appropriate about it, secretly beginning to enjoy the familiarity as he subtly relaxed into the hold. He nearly tore away when he felt a soothing hand begin to caress his head, but he ended up accepting this as well, gently letting the hand guide his head against a broad shoulder.

Deep down, Squall knew he should be outraged. He should feel scorned for being patronized and treated like a child, but he couldn't conjure such anger. Instead he found himself blanketed in calmness, as though temporarily relieved from every worldly trouble.

It was certainly far too intimate given their status as near strangers to each other.

"I think my heart stopped when you suddenly collapsed last night," Laguna admitted in a low whisper, almost as if a spoken thought.

At this admission, Squall's heart began to beat faster. He didn't know why.

Laguna felt as though he were in another dream, almost certain that standing there hugging his son couldn't possibly be more likely than if the boy were to offer sexual services.

Eventually, when the seconds mounted and the silence remained unbroken, it became too inappropriate to ignore. Oddly enough, it never became awkward.

Laguna was threading his fingers through lengthy chestnut brown hair, stroking the boy as though he were something to be cherished. He could feel warm breath ghosting his neck once more, almost inclined to shift just to feel a brief press of those lips against his skin.

"You're hugging me," Squall finally pointed out, wondering if he could hide the fact that he was quite enjoying it. Though he spoke, his head remained resting, almost nuzzling under the older man's jaw. He wondered what the fine stumble on the President's jaw would feel like against his cheek.

Laguna gave a deep chuckle, finding the spoken observation amusing. "Yes," he agreed, offering no more than that.

Squall felt his stomach flutter as Laguna's chest vibrated and seemed to echo inside of his own. This was dangerous. He'd done some pretty atrocious acts in his life, but somehow his inkling realizations on this were beyond anything he'd done before.

A part of the young SeeD wanted desperately to write it all off as normal, to conclude that he simply didn't understand the intricacies of having a father and the attachments that came with it. However, he knew all too well what his stirring feelings were. He might not understand the love a child had for a parent, but he knew the sort of love that caused lustful desires to run rampant.

Resisting the urge to furl closer, finding that he was already too close, Squall remained lax. However, time didn't stop and the procrastination of parting from each other would eventually dally into the realm of a desire for something unseemly. Still, Squall felt as though he couldn't be the first to break away.

In fact, at a rather inopportune moment, Squall raised his arms and returned the hug, linking his arms around to softly grasp the loose dress shirt at the man's back. The sudden fierce tightening was unexpected, but obviously prompted by what he'd done.

Laguna squeezed the boy tightly, not giving credence to the fact that Squall looked like a fragile porcelain doll that could break. His back felt on fire, not painful, but as though a wave of heat struck it. He found that his caressing hand had ceased its ministrations, opting to instead cradle the boy's head and press it closer. He dared to imagine that those plush lips were indeed against his flesh.

"Laguna?" Squall whispered in question, held in place so securely he couldn't even keep his lips from brushing the man's neck as he spoke.

A soft groan escaped the President, relishing the feel of those lips, the very same ones he suddenly felt the carnal desire to be kissing. Not even realizing he'd made any noise, he commented huskily, "You smell like sandalwood."

Squall stiffened, suddenly so afraid he felt frozen. This couldn't be happening. What had he done? For this, he surely deserved a fate worse than death. All at once, it became clear why he'd been subjected to the life he'd lead thus far, why his troubles only seemed to grow. He deserved every bit of pain and sadness that came his way.

Somehow, inadvertently, he'd seduced his own father. He prayed for Ifrit to strike him with hellfire and take him to the depths of a fiery underworld to live out an eternity of torture.

What could he do? He hadn't meant to catch Laguna's eye in the same manner he'd been instructed to do so for countless others. Yet he had, and now he had to figure out what to do about it. Admittedly, he found the man quite attractive, recently acknowledging that his body reacted to even the simplest of gestures made by the Estharian President.

But, Squall had never even begun to host the idea of acting on such feelings. He had too much self-control to even allow himself to imagine what it would be like.

The brunet couldn't even remember how he ended up in the older man's arms, let alone what had brought him into the President's rooms that morning. All he could think about was the repercussions of pushing Laguna away and refusing any possible advances.

Cid had always told him that refusal was never an option, ever. It didn't matter what sort of fetish the person had, he was to play his willing part. Still, accepting his father's advances was a far cry from allowing himself to be chained up and whipped for some sadistic governor.

If he rejected Laguna, would the ex-soldier become angry? Would the President deny all relations with Balamb for sheer shame and embarrassment?

Finding that his desperation grew paramount, Squall squeezed his eyes shut and wished he were somewhere else.

Laguna mistook the boy's clinging nature. Although Squall's body stiffened within his arms, the hands at his back clenched tightly, as if desperate to hold on. In turn, he wrapped his arms around the brunet's lithe torso and buried his face in unruly locks of silky brown hair.

Inhaling the pleasant sent of sandalwood, the President found himself floating as if he weren't really awake. It suddenly occurred to him that he probably wasn't awake. He'd experienced dreams within dreams before. And so bizarre was their closeness that it most definitely seemed like a dream.

All at once, Laguna began kissing the boy's head, soft pecks against silky hair. In his mind, at least he didn't have to deal with the repercussions of acting on his darkest desires.

In frantic trails, constant for the lack of finding what he truly wanted, Laguna made his down the former Commander's temple and cheek. He savored the moment when he finally kissed the boy's lips, feeling how soft and pliant they were. Slow and savoring quickly turned into feverishly possessive.

Laguna held the brunet's head, having stepped back to better continue. All at once, it hit the President that Squall wasn't responding. Filled with horror, he drew back and felt a due sense of dread when he gazed into frightened and startled grey-blue eyes.

"Gods, what have I done?" the longhaired man murmured.

Squall was at a loss for words. In a matter of minutes, everything had changed. He was so lost. He wasn't sure he was even this nervous and scared upon entering Ultimecia's castle. The older man had obviously blanked out for a few moments there, not realizing what he'd done.

Squall tried to make his brain work, to figure out the options he had. His sharp tactical skills were failing him. Should he offer to forget the whole thing, act like it never happened? Should he just walk away? What should he do?

Laguna raised a hand to his face, covering his mouth as he gaped in shock. He wasn't dreaming. Why had he ever thought he was dreaming? "I think I'm losing my mind," he muttered, his voice slightly muffled.

Staggering back, the older man fought to keep his legs steady, feeling as though he would fall down any moment.

Squall's brows drew together in anguish, cursing the day agreed to come to Esthar in the first place.

"I'm sorry Squall, please, please, I'm irrevocably sorry."

Needing to sit down before he collapsed unceremoniously to the floor, Laguna searched around for that chair he knew to be nearby. He was dismayed to see that there wasn't one, since these were not his usual rooms. Instead, he managed to make it to his open bedroom door, grabbing the frame for support.

Breathing erratically, Squall stopped thinking all together. On the verge of hyperventilation, he stalked forward and approached the horror stricken President. He had no answer for how to make things right again, assuming they'd been right in the first place. But, he knew he couldn't let Laguna feel as though he'd been violated or wrongly crossed, knowing that making someone feel like the bad guy never worked out for making alliances later on.

It had to be convincing, Squall knew this. He had to do this like any other time, master himself and gather his wits. It was like battle, he couldn't fall apart so easily. He needed to take the lead.

There was no limit to how far it could be taken, Squall had learned early on the difficulty boundaries could make. He'd prompt Laguna, and from there he'd indulge the older man to any extent. Making nice with the rulers of other countries could mean many different things. It could imply offering friendship to an isolated dictator or it could mean offering sex to a closet homosexual governor. It meant whatever the situation turned out to call for, and Laguna was no exception, blood relation included.

Laguna saw nothing but the dark slate colored floor, eyes fixed on flecks of black within grey threads of the rug. He heard nothing but the pounding of his heart, blood rushing through his veins and echoing the beat in his ears.

The former soldier was quite taken aback to suddenly have cool hands touching his cheeks, gently running over his jaw and nudging his head straight. He stared in disbelief, eyes wide and his mind reeling from the insanity of it all.

And then, Squall's lips were against his, making it all better. Frantic once more, torn between what was right and what he wanted, Laguna gave in to his desires again. He grabbed hold, pulling the smaller man close and taking advantage of the responsiveness to this kiss.

Squall maneuvered his head, angling it to the side as he slowly relinquished the lead. He let Laguna anchor him in one place, crushing their lips together so forcefully that his head was pushed back, forcing him to give up any standing of dominance he might have had in initiating the exchange.

Laguna was a man consumed, on fire with lust. He held a burning ache in his chest, demanding that he continue and never stop, to take all he could and then take more. For something that was so terribly wrong, he couldn't believe how right it felt.

Black and white, wrong and right, had come together to form a mass of grey territory that the President couldn't possibly navigate without committing sins in the name of making himself happy. It was all mixed. It was incestuous, theoretically grotesque, not to mentions illegal. But for all the black the spotted the act, he felt he'd never be a sane again if he didn't do it.

He hadn't been with anyone since Rain, never really making it past the third date with a woman. Maybe that was the cause, repressed feelings coming to light and projecting towards his only reminder of his unwed fiancé.

"Squall," he moaned, attempting to make the kiss something deeper.

Squall almost winced at the call of his name, hearing the lust it carried and knowing just how consumed by it the President was. As he opened his mouth in response, finding that Laguna was almost desperate to taste him, he began to respond for his own sake as well.

Though wet and sloppy, Squall found the passion was contagious, unable to fake his willingness. He asserted his trained mouth, gently sucking on the man's tongue, drawing it in once more as he widened his mouth to let Laguna deepen it to the point of giving him a tongue fuck.

Always assuming he'd been many years past his prime, Laguna never expected his sex drive to be so insatiable. Blood rushed south, giving him his second erection in under half an hour. His hands seemed to come alive, remembering that there were many pleasures aside from kissing the beautiful young man, such as groping every inch of supple flesh on that perfect body.

The loose waist of denim pants made it easy for the longhaired man to brashly slip a hand beneath the band and gruffly squeeze shapely ass cheeks, kneading them in childish proclamation of touching something long awaited and needing to let everyone know it.

Squall moaned softly, feeling his usual arousal over being fondled in such a way. Sex just wasn't good for him unless it involved a thick cock thrusting into him. He'd been conditioned to love it, making it easier to take it when it came from partners he couldn't look at without wanting to heave the contents of his stomach up.

But Laguna didn't nauseate him in the least, a rarity he cherished. He would definitely enjoy indulging the President. As a show of what the older man should do other than knead his cheeks, he arched into the touch and gave another moan.

Saliva trailed between them as Laguna continued to ravish and plunder the younger man's mouth, not caring for making it perfect, but preferring the wetness and slick mess. In the far reaches of his mind, he managed to process that the enticing brunet wanted something. Obviously enjoying his fondling, he was unsure what it was.

"Touch me," Squall managed to beg before finding himself once again sucking on Laguna's tongue, entangling it with his own.

Laguna groaned in frustration. Removing his hand, he sought to caress flesh more north of the boarder, snaking both hands beneath the brunet's thin white t-shirt. He let his palms map the soft skin over hard muscles, feeling the sexy contours of the boy's back and enjoying the subtle contractions made when Squall arched further.

Appreciation for the art that love making could be was thrown away as baser needs surmounted everything else. In a frantic tearing of clothes, Laguna found that he didn't even have time to remember he'd never been with a man before. Somehow, that little factoid remained off the President's radar, turning out not to be an issue since Squall took the lead where he was weak.

It wouldn't seem odd that Squall was so practiced until much later. Nor would it seem odd that Squall knew so well how to be with a man. For Laguna, he was an Estharian thru and thru, and Esthar no longer held any distain for same sex partnering, not after Adel's tyranny. But, Balamb was one of many places that didn't exactly promote homosexual relations.

Laguna found himself sinking his teeth into the tender flesh over Squall's right shoulder blade as he thrust into the brunet. It was such a tight and clamping heat that he doubted he could do more than rut in demanding thrusts. Laguna didn't even remember his own name until it spilled out in the form of a cock-twitching moan from Squall's throat.

Squall was overwhelmed by the needy thrusts, unable to even buck back as he was mercilessly fucked. His muscles were becoming tired, his body having difficulty keeping himself in one place as Laguna furiously pounded into him. Giving in, his arms collapsed, prostrating his lower half up while his chest pressed against the bed.

Laguna cried out at this, finding that the change in position allowed him to thrust even deeper. He gripped slim hips with bruising force, his pelvis slapping harshly against the boy's shapely butt.

Squall managed to slip a hand underneath himself, stroking his own penis to achieve proper stimulation. It was certainly not a session that was focused on his wants, but that didn't mean it wasn't good for him. Laguna was endowed with a cock that made him long to have the man buried inside him upon seeing it. The bigger it was, the more pressure placed against his prostrate gland. If a man knew how to pleasure another man, then size didn't matter. However, Laguna was just lucky as hell that his dick kept raking across his sweet spot so often.

With a firmer grip, Squall stroked himself, able to tell the longhaired man was nearing climax. Figuring Laguna might enjoy the clamping muscles around his length, he decided to come first. As he spurt his release into his fist, much of it landing on the bed beneath, he gave a satisfactory smirk as the President cried out once more.

Laguna felt the tight heat become impossibly tighter, gripping him in a way so pleasurable he was convinced he must have been dreaming again. Throwing his head back, dark tresses whipping back, he slammed into that delicious body several more times as he shot his load deep inside that tight hole.

It was too much. The ecstasy was beyond Laguna's ability to experience it all. As the last few spikes of pleasure shot through him, he doubled over, his vision darkening.

Squall was spent, already feeling the consequences of being taken so roughly. His ass was sore, having protested all along but having been drowned out by the pleasure that topped it.

The brunet didn't realize that Laguna had passed out until the man collapsed to the bed after he started to move out from beneath him. Though at first afraid something was wrong, Squall soon assessed that the older man simply had a sensory overload, likely to wake up within the minute.

He hadn't slept all night, pacing his room over what he should do about Rinoa. So, when his body lay on the comfortable bed, the sated euphoria of post coital acts set in. He gave a yawn before allowing himself the sanctity of slipping off to sleep.

TBC…


	5. Chapter 5

Living with Heart

Act V

Slowly, hazel green eyes opened. Feeling as though he'd just gone through extensive catharsis, he smiled broadly and stared up at the ceiling. It was a sunny morning.

And then, his smile slowly fell, several thoughts and images coming back to him. He hadn't just woken up, he'd already woken up that morning.

Seized with fear, he cautiously turned his head to the right, detecting the presence of another person.

He saw a slender back, pale and unblemished, except for a sore looking bite mark near the right shoulder. The narrow waist and subtle flaring of slim hips were simply beautiful in their elegant curves. What promised to be an extremely nice butt was hidden beneath a partially drawn up quilt.

It wasn't until he stared at the back of unruly chestnut brown hair that he was filled with dread. The enticing curvature of this person's back suddenly seemed less feminine, but only because he now knew who it was.

Swallowing, he watched the gentle rise and fall of the young man's torso, desperate for Squall to be asleep while he fretted and panicked over what to do.

Maybe what he remembered was a dream, as unlikely a gift as it would be. He didn't often confuse reality and fantasy, but so bizarre was the reality he was in that he couldn't quite believe it was happening.

Reaching out, he grasped the quilt. Lifting it, he blushed while pointedly checking for evidence of intercourse. His stomach lurched with the feeling of having been caught in the middle of doing something he'd be in monstrous trouble for. While his eyes took a brief moment to soak in the sights, finding the smooth round buttocks to be droolingly sculpted, his brain was screaming at him for being such an idiot.

Both he and Squall were completely naked. There was semen, no doubt his own, drying between the cleft of shapely cheeks and trailing down a lean thigh. He'd fucked his own son.

Squall awoke at the feel of eyes boring into his back, sensing that Laguna as awake, perhaps five or ten minutes after he'd fallen asleep. There was likely to be a repeat of the President's episode after kissing him. Feeling the blanket lifted, he almost chuckled at the man's need for proof, as if memory wasn't enough.

Once the brunet felt confident that Laguna knew what the actual exchanges between them were, he bristled as if waking. For Squall, it was also a moment of uncertainty. He'd have to read Laguna's eyes, figure out if the man was beyond remorseful or if this would be a continued occurrence between them.

"Laguna," he mumbled in a sleepy voice, a soft whisper.

As Squall shuffled to turn the other way, he reached out to pull the comforter higher, just in case the older man was horrified and the sight of his naked body would make it worse. Still lying down, he gazed up to the longhaired man who was propped on an elbow.

Laguna stared in fascination as Squall looked at him with foggy eyes. He'd expected the boy to blow up on him, accusing him of rape or something along those lines. It didn't matter that the brunet had been completely willing. It just felt like it was entirely his fault.

Blinking lazily, Squall reached out and lethargically twined a piece of long raven hair in his fingers. It felt silky despite the disarray Laguna's hair was in. "You look guilty," Squall commented softly.

Laguna's brows drew together as if pained. Sitting up abruptly, he pulled his knees up and hugged them. Bowing his head, he let the shame and guilt wash over him, pushing him to tears. "What have I done?" he sobbed.

Alarmed, Squall watched with wide eyes. He hadn't exactly expected that reaction. He still had no clue if the President wanted him to stay or get the hell out. Tentatively, he reached out again and placed a gentle hand on the man's shaking shoulder.

Squall was struck with guilt as well. He'd been oblivious to his father's growing desires, when he could have stopped it early on. It was his fault the man was so torn, having committed what society thought of as a terrible sin. Truthfully, for Squall, the fact that Laguna was his father didn't matter. Social perceptions of what was acceptable had never really meant much of anything to Squall. For Laguna, it was obviously very different.

Whether or not Squall could relate to the older man's feelings wasn't the issue though, so the brunet shifted closer, feeling more extensive pain in his ass for it. He managed to sneak an arm around the older man's stomach, hugging the crying President. "Lay down," he encouraged.

Laguna slowly uncurled, complying with the boy's demands.

Once Laguna was lying down, Squall pressed closer. He felt like he was consoling a child, pulling the older man to his chest and gently stroking tangled raven hair. "It's okay," he whispered.

If Laguna were any less distressed, he'd have felt terribly awkward crying like a baby against the younger man's chest. He was only slightly taller, but significantly broader framed than the young SeeD.

"This isn't why I asked you here," Laguna choked out, desperately trying to impress that point. He never intended for anything of this to happen. In fact, until last night, he'd never openly admitted that he felt attracted to the brunet.

"I know," Squall replied, secretly wondering if that were not the case.

"What have I done?"

Squall considered this. Laguna was not the guilty party here. "You've done nothing wrong."

Rearing back, Laguna stared in disbelief, his cheeks wet and his eyes filled with tears. "I've slept with my son," he whispered, imploring Squall to recognize the fact so that he might begin to work for forgiveness.

"It sounds worse than it is," Squall commented, never breaking the gaze.

"How can you be so indifferent?" Laguna accused.

Sighing, Squall realized he was betraying himself with his calmness. He felt guilty for Laguna's distress, but nothing more. He hadn't meant to seduce the man. It was an unfortunate accident, which had lead to the scenario he now dealt with. But he wasn't going to cry over spilt milk.

"I can leave now, and we can never speak of this again," Squall offered. "Or," he began, pausing to find the right words.

Laguna had stopped crying. He was holding his breath, imagining carrying on as though nothing had happened, as though he hadn't just has sex with the younger man. What other option was there?

"If this is something you want," Squall began tentatively, trying not to make it sound wrong, "then I can give it to you."

"What?" Laguna whispered, not understanding while at the same time not believing it.

Squall tried again. "If you want me, you can have me."

"Is this a joke?" Laguna questioned with brewing anger. Why did Squall seem so unaffected by it?

"No," the brunet answered.

In a storm of raw emotions, Laguna expressed his anger. Roughly pinning Squall to the bed, he tested the boy's seriousness. Dipping down, he captured soft lips, certain they were as abused as his own.

Squall understood what Laguna was doing. The older man was testing him, seeing if he'd pulled away. Parting his lips, he invited the President to once again plunder his mouth. He responsiveness extended to raking his nails across the President's broad and strong back.

Laguna managed to pull back before he lost himself again, knowing it would lead him to wake up and find that he'd just screwed the boy once more. "You're serious," he managed in a pant, licking his lips.

"Quite," Squall commented with ill-disguised amusement. Just because he was supposed to make everyone happy didn't mean he couldn't enjoy himself while doing it.

"Is this pity?"

Again, Squall considered the longhaired man's meaning, turning the words over for a thoughtful moment. "I don't do pity," he finally responded.

Hazel green eyes softened. For the first time in many hours, he felt the first lighthearted emotion. It was probably true. Squall wasn't called the Ice Prince for nothing. "I still don't understand," Laguna admitted.

"…"

"What about Rinoa?" Honestly, the fact that Squall had cheated and was offering to keep cheating was hardly his main concern.

"It would be best if she didn't know," Squall pointed out, wondering what the young sorceress would do if she knew of all his transgressions.

Laguna was disappointed in Squall. Where was that sense of fierce loyalty? Was this the same person who had gently carried the young woman all the way to her rooms and paced with worry over her well being?

Perceptively, Squall picked up on the look in hazel green eyes. In quick debate, he considered where his loyalties would be best placed. He was the ideal mercenary, truly able to cut ties and attachments for the benefit of his employer. Cid would not be happy about breaking it off with Rinoa, but President Loire was far more important than General Caraway.

"I'm not in love with Rinoa," he stated, wondering if that would satisfy the man or not. It was true enough.

Laguna's heart drummed pleasantly. Even if he knew Squall wasn't saying that he was the focus of that love, it caused soothing warmth to spread through him. "What are you saying?"

Squall knew what Laguna wanted. He could see it in the older man's eyes. The guilt was too great for a man who'd simply become overrun with the need for a good fuck. The testing of how serious he was served as further proof, the President wanting to know if it truly was possible.

Given what he knew of the emotionally expressive man, Squall was able to soundly conclude that Laguna wanted him both body and soul.

Squall was prepared to give what he could, knowing he would soon make the President unhappy for his inability of total submission. It wouldn't last long, even if Laguna managed to overcome the stipulation of being his father. He was mildly surprised that the former soldier had no issue with gender, or perhaps that little fact had yet to settle in.

"I can break up with her," the brunet said, his eyes watering slightly as he stifled a yawn. He was tired and considering the use of a potion to relieve the soreness he'd be feeling the next time stood up.

"To what extent Squall? You're her knight. For Hyne's sake, you came to my rooms in the first place because of her," Laguna spoke angrily, now remembering every detail, knowing for certain where his dream ended and where his newly altered reality began.

Squall sighed. Loyalty was apparently something important for Laguna. If the older man wanted him unattached to all others, then he would come unattached. "I can give up my knighthood," he said, knowing that his offer was quite loaded. For Estharians especially, being a knight held respect and great honor if the sorceress didn't go around tyrannizing the locals.

Laguna was speechless, never expecting the boy to make such an offer. Squall was serious about this. But what exactly could they become?

Upon analyzing the situation a little more, Squall realized that being with Laguna would be decidedly better than being with Rinoa. He wouldn't have to deal with public affection, since that would be a disaster for the President. He wouldn't have to deal with headaches or the sickening fairytale ideals the raven-haired woman upheld. Laguna was a kindhearted goofball on the outside, but nothing Squall felt overly annoyed by. And in all honesty, his preference for male partners meant his attraction was greater for the raven-haired _man_.

Licking his lips, Squall felt rather inclined to manipulate the situation in his favor. "I'm not troubled by our relation," he proclaimed, falling limply against the bed, arching his back a bit before laying still.

Laguna watched, hating how he felt aroused again. "How can you be so calm about all this? I wasn't the only one involved," he stated, feeling a little better upon altering his perspective. Squall had been willing, working with him to take it to the next level.

Squall was more than certain he could make the older man disregard what he considered a small issue. Sitting up, wincing slightly, deciding he would definitely use a potion later, he reached out for the older man. He'd never seen this coming, previously finding a handshake the most intimate gesture he was willing to offer.

Leaning against Laguna, Squall slowly pushed the man back against the bed. Straddling the President's hips, seeing a demure blush rise in stubble ridden cheeks, he ducked lower and chastely kissed the man. There was hardly anything chaste about their softened cocks casually touching.

"You said you didn't know why you wanted me here. I said I'd indulge you."

"This isn't what I had in mind," Laguna defended, blushing deeper as he turned his head away.

"I'll admit I was shocked too." Not to mention Squall had been equally horrified and angry with himself for not noticing sooner. "You can think about it," Squall reminded, not wanting to corner the man.

"Think about what?" Laguna nearly shouted.

"About what it is you want from me."

"I don't want anything," Laguna replied too quickly, realizing that wasn't true. "What I mean is, this was wrong. It was wrong in the worst way."

"Oh?" the brunet intoned impassively, wondering which part of the President's thick cock pounding into him was wrong.

"I'm your biological father Squall, you can't honestly say that doesn't create something of a problem."

"It means no one else can know," Squall whispered in the man's ear. Pressing further and gently kissing just under the jaw, grazing the flesh with his teeth as he nibbled.

"What are you doing to me?" Laguna groaned, pressing his head back into the pillow beneath to give the boy better access.

Squall pulled back, leveling the older man with an intense gaze. "Four months ago, you didn't know me. If you didn't know that I was your son, what would you be doing now?"

Laguna considered this. Sadly, if he didn't know Squall was his son, the brunet would still be in Balamb with Rinoa hanging off one arm and every government official making lewd comments. If he didn't know Squall was his son, he wouldn't be laying beneath the boy after having had the single most erotic experience of his life. Ashamed as he should have been, he'd be replaying the images of driving his swollen penis into the young man's butt over and over. Each time he jerked off, it would be to that moment.

"I don't know," the President admitted, not liking a present that didn't include Squall.

"Then let it go," Squall pushed.

Hesitant, Laguna asked, "Let what go?"

"Don't be guilty because I'm your son. It's a taboo only because of the birth defect it creates. I promise you, I can't get pregnant."

Laguna almost laughed. He could listen to Squall talk all day, finding the boy's voice melodious and soothing. It was a shame the brunet was generally silent. But he quite enjoyed the pensive look Squall had during long bouts of silence. He'd had too short a time to observe the young man. He wanted more, more of everything. "I want it, I want more of this."

Squall gave a soft smile, feeling victorious and relieved. His only guilt had been for Laguna's distress. If Laguna felt content about it, then there was nothing for him to feel bad about.

Laguna raised a hand and hooked it behind the brunet's head, pulling Squall down for another kiss. As it intensified, he felt his negative emotions waning and then dissipating as he became increasingly aroused. Flipping their forms over, Laguna became consumed once more, tasting and roving every bit of Squall's mouth.

If Squall were willing to give him whatever he wanted, then there would be plenty of time to set everything straight. For now, he felt like he was seventeen again, unable to suppress his libido.

TBC…


	6. Chapter 6

Living with Heart 

Act VI

It had been a week since Squall's first time sleeping with Laguna. The President was surprisingly aggressive in the bedroom, not exactly something he'd believe if he hadn't experienced it for himself. As it was, he'd run out of potions and found himself walking stiffly most of the time.

Was it normal for a man pushing fifty to be so sexually charged? Squall supposed it made sense in a warped sort of way. Nothing about their relationship was normal. Laguna was man of fairness and deep desires. Laguna was also a man who could not see him as a son, proven by the events transpiring on his first night in the estate.

Squall was fairly certain of his conclusions, aptly able to read people. As much as Laguna may have truly wished to play the part of his father, it just wasn't going to happen. And as much as Cid wanted him to play the part of the son, being the President's lover was far more satisfying and tolerable.

Currently, Squall sat leisurely against the trunk of one of those odd looking trees. Laguna had told him it was a Plumwood, which the former Commander didn't think was too inventive. His bodyguard was nearby, continually warning him that it was going to storm soon.

Flipping open his cell phone, he searched through the bank of numbers. Finding the one he was looking for at the top of alphabetized list, he send the call through.

It was few rings before the other end picked up, a baritone voice saying, "Almasy."

"Seifer," Squall said, knowing his former rival could recognize his voice.

"Squally-boy," Seifer greeted with a soft chuckle, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Rolling his eyes at the way Seifer managed to come across as arrogant even over the phone, the brunet got right to the point. "I need your help."

"Oh?" the ex-knight intoned with avid interest. "What could the world's wonder boy need my help for?"

"I'm serious Seifer, I need your help." After a moment, he added on, "Cid can't know."

Becoming serious, the blond's voice betrayed a hint of concern. "You in trouble Leonhart?"

"I imagine I will be," the brunet replied evenly.

Grumbling on the other end, the blond knight warned, "This better not be a domestic dispute. I'm not telling you how to handle Rinoa, if I had to find out for myself then so do you."

"Actually," Squall began tentatively, "It does have to do with Rinoa."

"Look," the blond on the other end started in with a short temper, "you sound serious, but if you're asking for sex tips, I'm coming out there to kick your ass."

"What makes you think I'd need sex tips?" Squall quipped, not liking any respectable SeeD to think he'd be such a fool as to ask for help over screwing his girlfriend.

Seifer laughed, enjoying a good verbal match when the occasion called for it. "I dunno Leo, maybe because you only know how to suck cock and take it. I imagine the female anatomy is quite the mystery for you."

"Fuck you," Squall hissed. No one knew better than Seifer about his past, knowledge that the former knight was gracious enough to keep to himself, but taunted him in private about relentlessly.

"Yeah, yeah," the blond placated, knowing that the topic was like an open wound for the abused little lion. "I know it's not your fault for being Cid's fuck toy. So, what's up?"

"How are you and your romantic dreams doing these days?"

"Shut up Leonhart, I'm not discussing it with you or anyone else," the blond shot vehemently.

"I'm serious," Squall asserted, "I'm not going to ask for your help unless I know."

"What are you on about?"

"Do you miss being a knight?" Squall asked.

"And the brainwashing that comes with it? There was nothing romantic about it."

Squall wet his lips, hoping to make headway. "If given the chance to become a knight again, to someone who wouldn't control you, would you take it?"

"You know, you're talkative when you want something," Seifer commented.

Squall could read his old rival like an open book. The blond didn't want to answer, too afraid to admit that he hadn't learned from past mistakes. "I'm going to give up my knighthood with Rinoa, but I can't do something like that unless I know she'll have someone else."

Silence was Squall's answer, no sound coming from the other end. "You still there Seifer?"

After the clearing of his throat, the blond answered, "Yeah, I'm here."

"I won't lie," Squall began. Seifer Almasy was one of the few people he actually wouldn't lie to. It was partly because Seifer could read him too well, knowing when he was being honest or not. "Last week, she got a little out of hand. She has this thing about wanting me to be more social and her shifting moods give some bad headaches. I figured you'd know what I meant when I say it's like tendrils of magic inside my head, urging me to do things."

A heavy sigh sounded. "I know what you mean."

"I can't be her boyfriend," Squall said flatly, "But I have a feeling that if I'm not her boyfriend, I can't be her knight either."

"Does she know?" Seifer asked.

"This is why Cid can't know. Dr. Odine put her in temporary stasis, he's working on suppressing her powers."

"Holy fuck," Seifer cursed giving off a low whistle after. "You've got Caraway's kid sealed without permission. That's a mighty hole you've dug my friend."

Squall frowned, not appreciating being reminded of his predicament. "I've seen the way you look at her, and I know how it was always your dream to be a knight."

"She's cute, but after seeing her with you I'm not sure I want a piece of it. She's gotten out of hand."

"That's cause I don't know how to handle her," Squall assured.

"Oh, trying to butter me up?" Seifer asked. "If you really wanna win me over, you can give me a blowjob. You have no idea how long it's been since I've had a good one."

Squall grit his teeth. He could tell Seifer was already on board, probably doing flips over the prospect of becoming a knight again. Still, he couldn't exactly afford to deny the man whatever he asked for. "Let me guess, it's been about seven months."

Seifer laughed. "How'd you know?" he commented huskily.

"Cause that's the last time I remember having to see your tiny prick."

"Hey!" Seifer warned, "Watch what you say about my dick, it has a very sensitive ego."

"I'm sure," Squall said, rolling his eyes.

"Well, if I'm doing this, I'm coming out there for a week. I bet there's nothing like mooching off the President."

"How soon can you get here?" Squall couldn't afford to delay. He'd been pushing it after keeping her under for more than a day.

"Are you that excited to blow me?"

"I'll let you fuck me if you get your ass out here by sundown," Squall hissed.

"That's cold Leonhart, you know I can't possibly make in only an hour."

"Seifer," Squall sighed, "It's seven in the morning here."

"No shitting?" the blond exclaimed, "Then I'll be there, one way or the other. And you can be sure I'll hold you to your offer."

"Imagine how excited I must feel," Squall comment sarcastically.

"Hey, I know how much you love me, you can't deny it. I'm gonna fuck you so hard-"

Squall hung up, assured that the blond would make good on his word. Seifer could be as lecherous as Irvine at times. His rival had never passed up an opportunity to use him for a quickie.

"That sounded like an interesting conversation," James said from the other side of the tree trunk.

Scowling, Squall glared at the bodyguard, grateful for the client confidentiality clause in all bodyguards' contracts.

"Something I wasn't supposed to overhear?" the guard questioned with raised eyebrows, reaching up to take his sunglasses off.

"I didn't peg gossip as your style," Squall stated impassively, still glaring.

"Down boy," James soothed, holding his hands up. "I'm just curious. It's not my business, but considering I'll be around you for your duration in Esthar, I figured you might wanna make friends."

"Do you make friends by eavesdropping?" Squall questioned.

"You knew I was nearby. I thought you would have heard me approach."

Squall looked away, admittedly defeated by those words. The sandy blond man wasn't what he'd call antagonizing, just honest.

Just to be safe about keeping his little problem low key, Squall stated, "I invoke my right for your confidence."

James smiled, politely pointing out, "You don't have it. I'm not under your employment."

"I'm your charge, my privacy is mandated."

"Not in Esthar it isn't. Palace guards report to one authority. President Loire is the only man who has any sway over the matter."

"I see," Squall said lowly, gritting his teeth.

"I'm not here to cause trouble, I'm here to watch over you. All I ask for is a heads up on when you'll be going public with your break up. There's a pool going, I could use the extra cash."

Pocketing his cell phone, Squall crossed his arms. He wondered if he'd ever meet a person who wasn't prone to extorting him. "Sure, should I throw in a free blowjob also?"

James shook his head, a little wary about whether or not he kid was being serious.

Squall smirked, rather pleased to see someone who declined without raking their eyes over his body.

"What?" the light haired man questioned.

"Nothing," Squall replied quietly.

"Squall!" Laguna called, trotting along the lawn to reach the brunet.

Squall watched with slight apprehension as the longhaired man came closer. There was always the concern that in the man's usual giddiness to see him, they'd be found out. However, hazel eyes seemed to spot James, knowingly establishing a different countenance.

The President was a rather handsome man, the type of person Squall watched inconspicuously whenever he could. Long raven tresses were bound in a loose band at the man's back. He often wondered why Laguna chose to keep it so long, but after twining his fingers in it when they were in bed, he appreciated it. It was soft to the touch and almost acted like a stress reliever to habitually twine it around his fingers.

"Morning," Squall greeted when Laguna was close enough that he could speak quietly.

"You weren't there…" Laguna trailed off, wanting to say that the boy had been gone when he woke up but realizing they had company. The former soldier tried again, "I couldn't find you inside, I'd wondered where you'd gone."

James casually donned his sunglasses again, hiding his watchful eyes. It seemed odd that the President never let the boy out of sight, always spending time together in private quarters. Though, rumor had it that the kid actually never knew the President until the war brought them together, and now President Loire was obsessed with bonding with his son.

Squall made a mental note to stay in bed with Laguna until they were both ready to leave next time. With a small shrug, he explained, "It's going to rain soon, I felt like being outside before it started."

Pouting a little, Laguna sat down, wishing he could show some sort of affection, a simple hug or kiss.

Understanding what the older man was pining over, Squall leaned over and gave the President a small peck on the cheek. "Good morning," he greeted again.

Blushing furiously, Laguna shot frantic looks from his son to the guard nearby.

"There's nothing wrong with a kiss on the cheek or a hug. I hear you're a pretty friendly person, you do it all the time with members of parliament," Squall assured in a low whisper.

Grinning broadly, Laguna gave an affirming nod.

Squall cast a quick glance to see where James was, the tailing guard once again on the other side of the tree. Reaching out, he subtly groped Laguna's muscular thigh. "It'll take a lot more than a kiss on the cheek for anyone to know we're lovers," he said softly.

Laguna swallowed nervously, his leg suddenly feeling like it was about to cramp up. Squall had a dangerous streak, pushing the limits at every opportunity. Returning the intimate gesture, he replied, "If you keep this up, I'm going to take right here against this tree."

Biting his lip, Squall tried to keep his obvious lust hidden. Giving off a soft gasp, he couldn't deny how much he enjoyed it when the older man took charge. There were so many sides to Laguna that he could hardly keep up. "Is that a promise?" Squall questioned with want.

"Not today," Laguna chuckled, "I have a surprise."

* * *

Surprises were not usually something Squall enjoyed, especially when the most recent ones had included hoards of clothing Rinoa had bought him.

Revving the engine of the custom made motorcycle. Sleek black covering shined even during the cloudy day. With a v-four engine and aerodynamic build, Squall had no doubt it could go insanely fast. Squall couldn't help but grin at the sound. Glancing toward Laguna, he quirked a brow. "Never took you for the motorcycle type."

Laughing at the boy's obvious pleasure, Laguna retorted, "My generation was the epitome of bike riders. I've been riding since I eight, it's been at least four months since I last went for a ride though."

Squall eyed the endless horizon, excitement building at the prospect of just speeding across the scorched expanse with no destination in mind. He wasn't a practiced rider, but this wasn't his first time either. When he was sixteen, Seifer had been obsessed with motorcycles after seeing some movie, which meant he was dragged into it as well. They'd raced each other every chance they could.

"It's yours," Laguna pointed out, then gestured back to the garage of other motorcycles he had. "Security will be monitoring us from the air the second we leave, but you'll hardly notice them. Let's go."

Squall bit his lip, trying to refrain from acting like a bouncy Selphie. "Right now?" he questioned, too psyched to care that he sounded like an excited child going to the circus.

"No time like the present," Laguna said with a laugh, sidling closer and leaning down to give the brunet a long, hard kiss. Parting before it became too heated, he retrieved the helmet from the ground and handed it over.

Licking his lips, Squall gave an appreciative smile. He knew Laguna was giving him the bike, a present for him as the man's lover. He was used to receiving gifts, though never something he actually wanted. He had to give the older man credit for figuring him out on this one. Not even he knew he liked riding until he was sitting down on the bike, the first time in several years, and starting it up.

They were out at some desolate junkyard, apparently one of Laguna's favorite haunting grounds. The President worked on all sorts of engines as a hobby of sorts. The extensive collection of motorbikes and motorcycles was kept under lock and key there, the best place to ride being the dry flat plains of the countryside. The nearby cliffs and light forestry made for good trails for the off road and sport bikes.

Even when it began raining, thunder clapping loudly as if the storm were chasing their heals, they road out. It didn't take long for Squall to get a feel for handling his new bike. For the first time in his life, he felt completely unrestrained, no choking collar around his neck or bars marring his view of the world.

Squall suspected that Laguna knew this, if only unconsciously, the older man had picked up on some need within him. He was grateful beyond words, silently promising to make their time together worth it for the President.

Eventually, the day had waned. Sadly, Squall was drawn back down to reality, the impending chink of his chains locking in place once again.

It was sunset by the time the junkyard's fencing came into view. The sun was at their backs, the storm having spent itself and giving way to a clear sky.

With trepidation, Squall saw an entourage of parked blacked cars and the familiar imposing form of his old rival. He'd forgotten about Seifer.

"Laguna," Squall called to man who rode even with him, "I meant to tell you, I called Seifer Almasy and asked him to come."

"What?" the longhaired man returned with incredulity.

Laguna came to a premature stop, expecting Squall to do the same. The brunet followed, turning around to back track a little.

Squall removed his helmet, tossing his head a bit to cool it down. His longish strands were limp and damp, proof of how long they'd ridden without rest. Facing opposite his father, he came so close their knees were touching. "I said I'd give up my knighthood for you," Squall explained. "I've known Seifer for a long time, I trust him with Rinoa."

As touched as Laguna was that Squall was going to go so far as to give up being a knight, he felt more prone to jealousy at the moment. "Last I knew, he didn't do so well as a sorceress' knight."

"Ultimecia was insane, it wasn't his fault," Squall defended, "But, I know he can be Rinoa's knight better than I can."

Laguna looked sternly forward at the assembly of guards in the distance. No doubt the blond SeeD's unexpected presence had caused some trouble.

"I can't sever my ties with Rinoa unless Seifer takes my place," Squall stated solemnly.

Hazel green eyes turned to meet stormy blue. "You'd do this for me?" he questioned once more, still feeling as though it were a great sacrifice considering they'd done little else but fool around for the past week. Somehow, he didn't see Squall as the romantic type, making gestures of love openly. In fact, Laguna was a realist in many matters, including love, and felt rather certain that Squall didn't actually love him at all.

Squall took a deep breath, glancing out at the horizon and the orange sun falling below the flat plain. He thought about the unforgettable excursion he'd just gone on, inexplicably pleased over it all. "Yes," he answered firmly, a soft smile tugging his lips upwards. "If we can go out again," he added, turning to regard the man he'd corrupted and turned into his lover.

As the father and son returned, Seifer watched with curiosity. He kept his sharp jade eyes focused on every exchange, from a small glance to a pat on the back. It wasn't until President Loire came nearer that he understood why he felt suspicious.

"Stand down, he's a guest," Laguna waved off the uptight sentry of palace guards.

With a shake of hands, Laguna and Seifer met face to face for the first time. Seifer had skipped out during the celebration party, his condolences given to Squally-boy for having to attend.

"President Loire, I'm going out on a limb here, but I'd say my arrival was unexpected."

Laguna shot his son a quick look. "Quite," he returned, taking in the blonde's tall frame.

With an impish grin, Seifer turned to his long time rival and gave the brunet a backbreaking hug, wrangling a shocked yelp from the younger man. Chuckling, he set Squall down before whispering, "You're getting fucked hard for this one."

Hazel green eyes narrowed, never suspecting Squall to be so close to the blond man.

TBC…


	7. Chapter 7

**Warning:** Explicit content, be warned.

Living with Heart

Act VII

"So," Seifer began amicably, eyes glancing around the room.

"…"

"Still as talkative as ever I see, especially now that you've got me here," the blonde commented wryly. "I can't believe this place. What I wouldn't give to have the President as my dad."

Squall made no comment, knowing Seifer was making fun of him on some level. Striding further in the room, he shrugged out of his bomber jacket before beginning to undo his belts.

"Leave 'em," Seifer said, "I like to take them off myself."

Squall raised his eyebrows, but left the many belts alone. Everyone had his or her preference. "Can I count on you for this?" the brunet asked, his tone impassive, no pressure to follow through.

"I miss it man," the former knight said seriously, half in thought. "Ultimecia was a bitch, but she knew how to use her power."

"I recall," Squall said sarcastically.

Seifer disappeared into the bedroom for a moment. "Are all the rooms like this? The bathroom is the size of my dorm."

Leaning against the back of the couch, Squall crossed his arms and watched in slight amusement. It was a big change from what they were used to.

When Seifer returned, leaning his broad form against the open door, he crossed his arms in mimic of the smaller brunet. For a long moment, they just stared at each other.

At length, Seifer smirked and gave a subtle nod. "I'll do it. I seem to remember that Rinoa acted a lot differently when she was around me. I guess it's because I never had women troubles, she knew she had to shut up or I'd leave her."

Squall gave a smirk of his own, both insulted and elated. "Thank you," he mumbled quietly.

Unfolding his arms, the blonde sauntered closer, his jade eyes pointedly raking the younger man's form. The anticipation had been growing the moment they first touched out in that junkyard.

"There's something I'd like to know," the blonde started, waiting for a reply to force words from the brunet's mouth.

"I can imagine there are many things you'd like to know, such as why I'm the better bladist."

Chuckling, Seifer commented, "Cute, very cute Leonhart." Closing the distance between them, he stared down. The introverted lion was all closed up, arms and legs crossed in what would have been a leisurely manner had he not known the boy so well. Despite Squall's valiant efforts to appear strong, to Seifer he'd always be the abused little lion who went through a ritual of gestures before doing something unwanted. "Relax," he said softly, "You know I don't bite."

A faint smile tugged pretty bowed lips upwards. Slowly, Squall uncrossed his arms, placing them to either side on the couch's back. Pointedly thudding his boots against the carpet, he uncrossed his legs, parting them wider than necessary.

Glancing up, Squall gazed from beneath a thick fringe of dark lashes. He might as well have been lying naked on a bed, beckoning for Seifer to come closer with an index finger.

"That's better," the tanned blonde said as he stepped between parted legs. Raising a hand he brought it up to a pale face, cupping Squall's cheek. He could read those stormy eyes so well. "You're a little distant," he observed.

"More than usual?" Squall teased.

"Yes, actually," Seifer returned seriously, dropping his hand.

Annoyed that Seifer could read him so easily, Squall lowered his gaze. "I'm just thinking about what happens after this," he explained.

"Well, I wouldn't mind having a little nap. I'm not big on cuddling, but I've always made an exception for you."

Rolling his eyes, Squall scoffed. Crossing his arms once more, he shot an unamused glance up to the tall SeeD.

"Lighten up Leo, I got your number. Cid might blow a gasket, but you're all the way out here." Finding that he felt more than a little angry on Squall's behalf, he dropped down on his knees and grabbed the brunet's slender hands. Tugging the hands away from their hugging of the boy's upper arms, he gave them a reassuring squeeze. "He can't touch you," he stated firmly.

Sighing heavily, Squall slid forward, slipping from his half sitting position.

Seifer was mildly surprised, his eyes roving the room instinctively, not wanting witnesses to see that he wasn't always arrogantly acting like an ass. As his rival slid down, he leaned back and accepted the tacit request for consoling. Lean arms wrapped around his neck and lithe thighs straddled his lap.

Uncertain for a moment longer, Seifer hugged the boy back. It always felt good to have Squall close. It was a weakness he had, one that he resented after learning all about the brunet's escapades with Garden. There was just something about Squall that appealed to him, and countless others. He took pride in the fact that he was in a category apart from everyone else, even if he generally treated the younger SeeD the same as the rest.

"Is Loire really your dad?" the blonde questioned after a few minutes, his legs going numb as he sat with them folded beneath him.

"Yes," Squall mumbled, almost ready to fall asleep.

"Then why does he look at you like a lover?" Seifer nearly laughed at the way Squall stiffened in his arms. "No way," he managed through his laughter, "No fucking way."

"Is it that obvious?" Squall asked with concern, wondering just how many others might already suspect.

"A little. You should have seen the look in his eyes when I picked you up."

Squall groaned, realizing for the first time why the blonde had greeted him in such an exaggerated manner. He thought about Laguna, an odd feeling of guilt forming within him. He generally didn't sleep with one person while seeing another, but he'd never felt bad about it.

"So, the President got a crush on you and now you're here. Man, you always land the guys with money."

"Moron," Squall muttered.

"Cid must be having a fucking field day. I don't think you have to worry about Rinoa, Loire kicks Caraway's ass."

"He doesn't know," the brunet admitted quietly.

Frowning, Seifer gripped slender shoulders and leaned Squall's frame back far enough to stare into secretive grey-blue eyes. "What is it then? You fell for him too?"

"No," Squall said a little too quickly, sounding suspicious even to himself. "Nothing happened until after I came here."

"I'm confused. Loire isn't paying for service?"

"It's not a service you bastard," the brunet growled out, knowing that wasn't exactly true.

"Apparently not," the blonde said with interest. "You're serious about him." Green eyes searched the averting stormy blue ones of the former Commander. Seifer was in slight shock, having assumed Squall had always been too ruined to ever find someone special. "He's not really your dad then, is he? That'd be a little twisted, even for you."

Grumbling silently, Squall replied, "He is my father."

"You're screwing your own dad? How the hell did that happen? This is a story I'd like to hear."

Frowning, Squall shook his head. "That's between me and Laguna. I trust you to keep your mouth shut about it."

"Well fuck a duck," Seifer exclaimed, "You're more screwed up than I thought Leonhart, no wonder you're the best lay I've ever had."

Quirking a brow, Squall silently questioned the blonde's logic on the last comment. After a moment, he spoke further, realizing this was a rare opportunity to discuss a few matters he needed insight on.

"It just sort of happened," Squall began, impervious to the fact that he was still sitting in Seifer's lap. "He felt like shit about it."

Barking with laughter, Seifer concluded that there were a lot of men in the world who felt like shit for wanting Squall. "From what I here, he cries after squashing a bug."

"It's not a bad thing," Squall mumbled automatically, immediately regretting it.

Green eyes gave a serious study of the brown haired boy. Reaching up, he gripped a narrow chin and forced Squall to make eye contact. Searching those mixed blue eyes, knowing the best of men could lose themselves in the stormy depths, he found what he was looking for on the surface.

"What?" Squall asked defensively, knocking the blonde's hand away.

Seifer spoke with disbelief, "You're falling for him."

Angrily, Squall pushed away, falling to the floor as Seifer grabbed him and tried to keep him in place. "Fuck off," he hissed.

"Calm down," Seifer ordered, vying for control at the frightened lion. The skittish feline was like a stray cat at times, stalking close for a kind petting hand and free food, but running away the second someone tried to pick him up and take him inside. Squall had major intimacy issues, never letting anyone get too close.

"I have to be somewhere," Squall said, trying to turn over.

"Sure you do." Seifer yanked at a couple of the bulky belts, forcefully pulling the brunet's smaller body closer. He straddled the struggling man, staying the legs while trying to get a firm grip on bony wrists.

"We'll do this my way, and I don't feel like raping your ass," the ex-knight growled in frustration.

Squall settled down, remembering that he was there for a reason.

Sighing in exasperation, the broad formed SeeD gave his condolences to the President. "I pity him if he's serious about you too. I can only imagine how confused he'll be after he confesses his undying love and you run off in the middle of having sex."

"Shut up," Squall spat, not liking how far the conversation had gone.

"No," Seifer taunted, leaning down and bringing his face close to the brunet's. "I'm just calling it as it is. If you want my advice, stay in Esthar, never come back."

Wide eyed, Squall stilled completely, staring up into serious jade green eyes.

"Yeah, that's right," Seifer said as though he were six and just sworn without care for the consequences. "You've been taking it from him your entire life. Aren't you just a little confused by now, after proving that you're better off in the field and that he's just a piss ant who shouldn't have any form of control."

"It sounds more like you've got the vendetta against him," Squall observed.

"Well one of us should dammit!" Seifer snapped. "Are you just gonna let things go back to the way they were? You're stronger now, so why take it?"

"And what exactly would I do?"

"It's not what you would do Squally-boy, it's what you wouldn't do. Or rather, who you wouldn't do."

Frowning, Squall considered his rival's words. "Leave Garden?"

"Why not?" Seifer urged. If the brunet couldn't see the opportunity knocking, he'd point it out.

"Would you leave?" Squall questioned evenly.

Blinking, Seifer considered this. "Never," he answered honestly. Being a mercenary was his life's work. It's all he was good at, all he'd been trained to do. He was fighter at heart, nothing else in life would satisfy him.

"Then how do you expect me to?"

Shaking his head, the blonde refuted to implied claim that they were the same. "You're a great fighter Leonhart, I can't deny that. But, think about your life as a SeeD so far. How much time have you spent in the battlefield?"

"Everyday during the war," the brunet replied slowly, not sure what Seifer was getting at.

"And since then?" the blonde asked, not waiting for answer since they both knew it. "You'll never see the field again. Cid wouldn't risk you getting another scar on your precious body. He just about hung me up to dry for these beauties we gave each other."

Dejectedly, Squall's eyes fell, unfocused in blank remembrance. It had been his hope that after proving himself in battle, he'd be placed there more often.

"If you've got the heart of a fighter, you know that being SeeD isn't the place to be. You could stay here for the rest of your life and be the President's fuck toy, and it wouldn't be any different than if you came back to Balamb. Except, you'd probably be passed around a whole lot more if you came back."

Frowning deeply, Squall let the words wash over him like a much needed reality check. "I'm not his toy," he refuted absently.

"Course not," the blonde returned, shifting to stand up and release the younger man from his weight. "But, you also realize that not being his toy means the relationship is serious."

Thoughtful grey-blue eyes searched the blonde's, trying to find more meaning behind it all. He wanted to curse Seifer for giving him far more to think about, adding to the many concerns plaguing his mind during all hours of the day. At the same time, he was grateful for the unbiased words of advice, knowing Seifer always spoke bluntly and honestly.

Grunting his annoyance, Seifer stretched out a bit, cracking a few knuckles and twisting to do his spine. "Well now that I'm not in the mood any more, let's grab something to eat. Then you can show me where the gym is in this place. I feel like kicking your ass."

Brightening at the prospect of a spar, Squall scrambled to stand up. "No gym, but we can just go outside."

"Sounds good to me."

* * *

Fluffy white clouds drifted across the sky, blotting out the sun every so often, but moving along quickly.

In a ritualistic fashion, Squall and Seifer flexed their grips on their respective gunblades while circling each other. They didn't speak, no words ever used when they fought. Actions were the only thing they needed. Swift swings and striking blows were all the words they'd use.

From a distance, none too accepting of the spar, James stood resolutely. Beside the sandy blonde guard stood an extra detail assigned to Seifer Almasy. Solomon Minor was there to make sure the ex-knight didn't cause any trouble. Both guards felt like reaching for their phone when informed the President's son was going to be having a one on one match with the SeeD who looked like he might be Hyne's son.

Seifer was the first to break, which was usual given his impatient nature and the fact that Squall would stubbornly stand there all day.

Feinting an outer swing with his right arm, he changed direction and momentum to spin around and slice upwards. The flapping of his long grey trench coat mixed with the sailing sound of his sharp blade cutting the air. Squall dove to his left, preferring not to block the strong blow that was likely to throw him backwards off his feet.

Rolling on his back, Squall was quite grateful for the soft grass instead of the rocky grounds of their special spot in the near the cliffs in Balamb. There was nothing jagged that might tear his worn leather jacket. His body could be mended, but he'd probably sulk for a week if anything happened to his favorite fur collared bomber jacket.

Sweeping his blade out, Squall gave the grass a slight trim while forcing distance between himself and Seifer. Buying the time he needed to take position, Squall was up and ready for the next move.

The pair carried on for two solid hours. Coats discarded, they dripped with sweat and panted for air. Though their muscles protested the continued hefting of heavy gunblades, neither caved to the desire for a break.

As a rather large cloud cast cool shade over them, their eyes locked and a silent agreement came between them.

Squall tightened his grip, wishing he had some powder for the inside of his gloves, but glad all the same that his hands weren't bare and slipping on the hilt. His arms flexed as he straitened them downward, Lionheart pointing out from his navel. His thin white t-shirt felt like a second skin. He'd probably be better off without any shirt on at all.

Grinning broadly, Seifer took a moment of preparation as well. Stabbing Hyperion into the ground, he reached for the hem of his soaked red t-shirt. Pealing it off, he tossed the garment aside, arrogantly nodding toward his partner as if agreeing with some unspoken compliment about his muscles.

With a golden tan, Seifer slowly cracked his knuckles in a show of prolonging the moment for watching.

"Have you gained weight?" Squall queried with a mischievous smirk.

Glaring, Seifer returned, "Don't be jealous pretty-boy, you know you wish you had my body."

Rolling his eyes, Squall dug a booted foot into the grass as warning that the blonde should hurry up.

All at once, the distance between them closed and the alarming clash of metal sounded in frighteningly quick succession. Hit after hit followed fast, no pattern in place, only attack and blocking instincts coursing through the fighters.

At this point, though both strength and speed were drained from the two, they still carried the same advantages. Seifer was stronger, and would remain such to the very end. Squall was quicker and would remain such to the very end.

The stronger hits of Seifer's were becoming difficult to defend against, especially without dodging, but Squall managed to get in nearly twice as many returned strikes of his own.

At that point, Seifer wouldn't have minded losing. It had been months since his last spar with Squall, seven months to be exact, coincidentally also the last time he'd managed to wrangle the brunet into giving him a blowjob.

Suddenly, it seemed like a much better idea to be having sex than to be sparring.

"Let's draw it here," Seifer announced.

Squall stopped his swing midair, eyes wide with surprise.

"I'm in the mood again. Let's go back. You can suck me off in the shower."

Brushing damp strands out of his eyes, Squall shrugged in acceptance. It had been a good match, cutting it short before a definite winner was made didn't change that. They often ended in draws.

Exhausted, they sheathed their gunblades before traipsing to retrieve their discarded clothing.

* * *

"Do that thing," Seifer urged, his breath becoming short as he gasped at each sensation.

Squall rolled his eyes. Kneeling on the smooth marble floor of the cubicle like shower, the brunet flexed his fellatio skills and swallowed with the tip of Seifer's penis against the back of his throat.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" the blonde cursed, prone to swearing even when he wasn't having the greatest blowjob of his life. No one could deep throat like Squall, and no one looked as damn sexy while doing it. The brunet had this look of relaxation, making it seem like it wasn't the difficult task that it was, which made it sexy to watch.

Pulling off, Squall used his tongue to lap at the reddened tip, licking away the precum from the slit. They were both washed down, which made his task better. Prolonging the act, pushing the moment of release further away, he nuzzled the course patch of dark blonde hair near the base of Seifer's penis. Sucking on the older boy's balls, he almost laughed when his rival's knees gave out.

Seifer slid down the wall, not ashamed to admit just how much Squall was affecting him.

"It'll be easier if you're standing or sitting on something," Squall complained.

"You'll manage," Seifer returned, twining his hands in sopping dark brown hair and directing Squall to continue.

Changing tactics and deciding to speed it up a little, for sake of not getting a stiff neck, Squall took the engorged penis deeply in his mouth once more. Sucking and swallowing, he bobbed along the length. The grip on his hair became a little too tight, but he ignored it. He could tell Seifer wanted to thrust upwards, but given the odd position couldn't.

"Fuck!" Seifer cursed again, wanting to ram his cock into Squall's mouth, but knowing the brunet could get the job done without such force. "Hyne dammit!"

The stream of obscenities continued to flow from Seifer's mouth. Those pout lips surrounded his pulsing organ as that wet cavern beyond stimulated him with a gyrating tongue and urging sucking.

"Swallow," came the blonde's single worded request. It was so difficult to find anyone willing to swallow, something he found entirely arousing.

A warning spasm signaled Seifer's orgasm. Squall gave a final swirl of his tongue to the leaking head before taking the length as deep as he could and accepting the release. Wave after wave of the warm, thick liquid filled his mouth. Salty and bitter, he swallowed it all. Squall had no qualms about it. The differences in the taste of semen from one man to the next weren't what created his distaste for it. It all depended on the person.

If Squall didn't like the person or the cock, he loathed swallowing the cum. Seifer had been the only person he'd ever willingly done it for, generally appeasing other _clients _by letting it spray in his face. There was one other exception, one he'd made without even being asked. He'd swallowed for Laguna, the older man too consumed with pleasure to even care that he'd done so. Yet, without being asked, he did it for the President.

Squall waited until he felt Seifer's penis soften, assured that the blonde had ridden the orgasm out completely. Letting the organ slide from his mouth, he straightened back up, sitting on his haunches.

"Come here," Seifer mumbled, making a weak gesture with his hand.

Complying, Squall crawled closer. The water was still running, the spray angled so it wasn't directly on them, but still spattering their naked forms.

Seifer gathered the brunet to him, riding the post coital euphoria out as he relished the feel of another's warm body against his own. He'd always have a soft spot for his stubborn rival, even if he never got another chance to enjoy the perks of being the Balamb Lion's closest acquaintance.

"I've got a whole week of guaranteed time here," the blonde mumbled, his eyes closed as he flopped his head lazily against Squall's shoulder. "I'll have to screw you some other time."

Situated between Seifer's legs, Squall tentatively reached up and ran his fingers through golden blonde hair, the strands far shorter than the ones he was becoming used to stroking.

Mildly surprised, Seifer's eyes opened, but he remained limp while leaning against the brunet. It felt nice to have those fingers raking across his scalp in a massaging manner, even if it felt a little more intimate than either of them usually went. There were certain gestures they never expressed for each other. They rarely kissed when having sex, and usually parted ways shortly after they finished up. Caressing one another after the fact was generally not done, indicative of some sort of attachment.

After a few moments of their bodies being so close together, Seifer realized he'd been slightly self absorbed. "Want me to return the favor?" he asked with an apologetic gaze towards the brunet's own erection.

"Just your hand," Squall requested.

"Of course," the larger man replied, having known Squall wouldn't accept his offer. Squall never accepted the offer for a favor that placed his mouth anywhere near the brunet's penis. Seifer figured it had something to do with trust issues again, the brunet being afraid that he'd bite.

Bending his legs and folding them with his knees facing outward, he made Squall more comfortable in his lap, supporting the smaller boy with one arm around a pale back. Seifer soaped his hand up, gently doing the same for Squall's hardened length. As he did this, the brunet spread his legs wider, leaning back against his arm a bit.

Slowly, Seifer began to stroke the brunet, careful to keep it gentle. Soon after, the aroused lion was purring and writhing, bucking into his hand.

"Nnnh," Squall cried out in a stifled moan, biting his bottom lip as he arched and came into the pumping fist.

"Damn," the ex-knight cursed.

"It's okay," Squall said, relaxing once more. As he felt his release slide against himself, he also felt Seifer's erection.

"You're not too tired?" the blonde questioned, suddenly in the mood for that fuck.

"No," Squall sighed, his body quite ready for a nap, but knowing it wasn't essential.

"A suck and a fuck," Seifer rhymed whimsically. "Will this be our last time together?" he asked seriously, secretly wondering just how serious Squall's tryst with the President was.

"Probably," Squall admitted, unable to know for certain what the future held. Secretly, he'd been pining over the ideas Seifer had planted in his head.

Staying in Esthar and not having to go back to the way things were before the war was a life choice he hadn't considered before. The trouble was the President. The longest anyone ever wanted him around was for a few months at a time, finding the joy of having him as a lover wore out quickly when the physical pleasure was all he gave.

How long would it take for Laguna to be done with him? When would the warmhearted President become overwhelmed with guilt again and decide that carnal pleasures were not worth it anymore?

"It was fun while it lasted," Seifer said with mock sadness. In a few weeks, he'd probably start missing the extreme pleasure Squall gave, but he'd also be a knight and find that he didn't need anything else but his sorceress.

Standing up, Seifer playfully hefted the smaller brunet over his shoulder. Slapping the boy's exposed ass, he stalked from the shower and headed for the bedroom. He'd draw it out as long as he could, a special farewell to their times of screwing each other.

* * *

Seifer was making ready to leave, tossing Rinoa's bags in the truck of the car that would drive them to the train station. He received an angry glare from his sorceress, but shrugged it off. It wasn't like there was anything breakable.

"You bought too much shit. I hope you know your carrying it all."

"But Seifer," Rinoa said with a pouting lip, her glare nowhere to be found, "You have such big and strong arms, it's like exercise." It was a pathetic attempt, her voice belying that she wasn't exactly serious, but that she also assumed she'd get her way in the end.

Roughly pulling the young woman to himself, Seifer leaned down and kissed her deeply. Just as she began to lose herself, arms winding around the tall SeeD's neck, he drew away. "You're carrying every damn bag that has your stuff in it," he affirmed before turning away to load the last couple bags in.

Downtrodden, Rinoa left the matter alone. She stepped closer to the stoop of stairs at the main entrance of the estate. She was sorry to be leaving so soon, having only spent a couple weeks in the luxurious home, even if she wasn't catered to.

Shifting brown eyes gazed up at the President, falling to the ground with guilt. She felt really bad about not controlling her powers, and not listening to the suggestions of seeing Dr. Odine. The doctor turned out to be a half decent man, when he wasn't in mad scientist mode. Now her powers were suppressed, thanks to a lovely little method Odine had created for sorceresses who weren't insane and wouldn't try to break the minor seal.

But, Squall wasn't her knight anymore, which made it kind of awkward to see the brunet's dad. Currently, her ex-boyfriend was cooped up within the estate, not seeing her since he had yet to go through the stage of losing his knighthood.

"I'm sorry things didn't work out as planned," she said to Laguna.

Scratching the back of his head, Laguna blushed mildly, secretly thinking that things had worked out quite well. He had Squall all to himself, now just the two of them within the estate, bodyguards and few caretakers not counting. Seifer would be leaving, which was a great relief since the blonde was spending way too much time with his son.

"As long as you're happy, it's fine. I'm sure Squall is glad that you'll be better off with Seifer."

"Oh, thank you Laguna!" Rinoa cried, her worries easily consoled with a few simple words of assurance. She gave the President a hug before darting away and disappearing into the car.

Seifer strode up to the longhaired Estharian, formerly a Galbadian. Offering a hand, he firmly shook the older man's hand firmly.

Debating for a moment longer, the blonde said, "Leonhart's the only decent sparring partner walking this planet. If you hurt him, I'll kill you."

Blinking in confusion, Laguna was utterly lost and taken aback. With his bodyguard only a few steps away, he was grateful the threat wasn't overheard.

"Don't just fuck around with him like a toy. I think he's getting attached to you."

Wide eyed, Laguna blanched at what he thought the knight was referring to. "How'd you know?" he asked without thinking.

Chuckling, Seifer tightened his grip. "I have your son's confidence."

Frowning, Laguna squeezed the blonde's hand with equaled strength. "What exactly did he say?"

"That he's afraid of rejection and getting too close," Seifer lied, speaking the truths he knew and not the ones Squall had told him. "Look, there are a lot of things you don't know about him. I'm telling you that you'd better not be playing with him, and that if you are serious then don't back down. He's a pissy little shit, but I imagine the end result will reward your efforts."

Easing off, Seifer ended the threatening shake.

Laguna watched in confusion as Seifer and Rinoa left his estate, on their way out of Esthar. He couldn't help but considered the blonde's words, less worried about his relationship being known to another and more consumed with the implications made.

Despite all his observations that Squall was generally distant, never quite making love and always just having sex, he felt assured that the brunet was feeling something for him.

There was no reason for concern about whether he was playing with the Balamb Lion's heart, since Squall already held his completely. Laguna knew their first night together that he was in love, no other reason explaining why he was so willing to ignore the fact that they were related.

Every time he saw Squall, his heart beat madly and his spirits soared. Just being in the same room was enough to make him smile for hours. He couldn't fathom that the brunet might feel so strongly in return, but he could hope.

TBC…

A/N Spelling and grammar errors should be ignored. Sorry, I'm not perfect and don't have the time or patience to go through this with a fine toothed comb. I'll fix 'em later. Unless there's an instance where you don't even know what I was writing, then I don't need to be made aware. If you do find something too big to be let go, which I doubt since I do check my work, then please let me know.


	8. Chapter 8

**Warning: **Specifics on Squall's past and some general out of character moments. This is the moment when Squall is feeling the loss of his sorceress, so he's prone to acting different.

Living with Heart

Act VIII

Squall sighed, lolling his forehead against he windowpane, feeling the pellets of rain drumming down against the glass.

"Has it begun?" Laguna questioned from across the room in concern, dropping the report in hand to stand and make his way to Squall's side.

A weak smile ghosted across Squall's lips. "No," he lied, not wanting to cause unnecessary worry.

"Don't lie," Laguna reprimanded. Slipping his arms around the young man, he drew the brunet against his chest.

Unable to maintain his composure, Squall broke down. Doubling over, kept from falling only because Laguna gently lowered him to the ground, he began to cry. It hurt so badly. He was overwhelmed with the hollow depression left within his heart.

"Shh," Laguna soothed, "It's alright, I'm here." Sitting on the ground, he drew the boy's curled form against him. Leaning against the wall near the window, he remained with Squall's body between his legs. The boy furled against his chest while delicate hands grasped at his light blue dress shirt for dear life.

"Don't leave me alone," Squall pleaded, his voice sounding hoarse as his throat burned with the need to shed more tears. He couldn't even begin to try and stop the embarrassing act of sobbing like four year old when his heart hurt so badly. A vice gripped the beating organ, demanding that it cease it's perpetual pumping. There was a cold ache inside of his chest that seemed to be tearing about in the process of stripping him of every warm emotion and secure feeling he had.

Every good feeling he ever had was taken within moments, the onslaught hitting him all at once, just as Dr. Odine had warned. Despair was all he had left. He was alone again, surrounded by darkness just like after defeating Ultimecia. Only now, he didn't have his sorceress to come save him. He needed her. "Rinoa!" he cried out, calling for her to come back.

Laguna felt his own eyes prick with tears, his heart hurting each time the brunet called out for his ex-girlfriend. "This isn't what I wanted," the President hissed against Squall's thick mop of hair, slowly rocking forward and back as he clutched to the young man in returned desperation. "Hyne, I didn't want you to suffer."

The raven-haired man's declarations were for his own sake only, Squall being too consumed by despairing sadness to hear him.

Eventually, Squall wore himself out, shallow breathing signaling a fitful sleep. With great care, Laguna stood and managed to carry the young man the short distance to the bedroom, setting the unguarded form on the soft structure.

Making quick work of stepping out of his polished dress shoes, he then lost his belt before working on the brunet. The jumble of belts was absent, thankfully. He unlaced the SeeD's heavy boots, wincing as they clunked to the floor, making a ruckus that might wake the boy. All that was left was the questionable option of taking Squall's bulky black hoodie off. It looked comfortable enough, but the stark contrast against pale skin and the excess material made the former Commander look so fragile that he feared this battle of the knight's soul would shatter the beautiful youth.

He didn't bother with the covers, simply rounding the other side and gently crawling the width of the large bed. Once again, he drew the brunet's form to himself. Not feeling particularly sleepy, he placed a few kissed to the Squall's forehead and began to pet the boy's hair, a habit he'd formed when dozing in bed with the young man.

He prayed for the hours to pass quickly, hoping that in sleep Squall found relief. His hopes were dashed shortly though, as the boy started crying out, thrashing in fits.

* * *

In nightmares, the single most potent fear that Squall had was abandonment, being alone when he sought the warmth of a gentle touch, a chaste touch. 

Memories surfaced in his mind. Being in the orphanage, wondering why his mother had left him, not quite understanding what death meant. Losing the only familiar person, realizing too late that he'd loved his sister. The constant confusion, never being given the answers he searched for about her disappearance. Being trucked off to Garden, taken from the familiar faces he'd come to know.

Cid had chosen him because of how he looked and how detached he seemed. He'd been a small child, generally seeming at least a year younger than he actually was.

He'd been nine when Cid had carted him away from the orphanage. On occasion, he'd return, never allowed to speak with the other children about where'd he'd gone. For a while, he'd only been exposed to Norg.

Cid Kramer, in a desperate act to keep Balamb Garden open for the sake of his beloved wife had catered to the Shumi's every whim. Norg had a particular fetish for the young, and Cid just so happened to have a wife who ran an orphanage.

Squall was perfect for the job. Aside from appealing to the greedy and disgusting creature that had once been an honorable member of the Shumi tribe, Squall rarely talked and that meant no one would find out.

For the first several years, Cid had been beyond remorseful, never able to meet his eyes. As time passed and Norg's attachments grew, the voyeurism and minimal fondling turned into quite a bit more.

Squall had been fourteen when it first happened. Norg had been upset about all the left over kids from the orphanage coming to Garden, accusing him of liking to spend time with them more than the rich and powerful Shumi. In anger, and probably repressed desires, Norg had taken him. It had been a rape that was sheer torture for a virgin Squall, never able to look in the mirror again for years without shuttering at his own weakness. In part, that loathe for weakness had made him the fighter that defeated Ultimecia.

Cid had been horrified, stumbling in at the most inopportune moment after it had already happened. Squall had been roughly handled, needing Kadowaki's attentive care for an entire week before being able to leave the bed.

The resident doctor had certainly been furious, frightening Squall with the level of hate in her voice when speaking to the Headmaster. Suffice to say, he'd never been allowed to see Norg in private again. But, he'd still been sent back.

Somehow, his warped dealings with Norg made him qualified to attend the fetishes of others. It just sort of became an entire maelstrom of being controlled and used. Time apparently healed Cid's wounds of guilt, the man beginning to solicit him to any official he thought might enjoy his special services.

Being a common whore was nowhere in the SeeD contract he'd signed, nor was it mandated as a required course as a cadet. But, Squall found that his life gave him a unique disposition, that at least it couldn't have gotten any worse. Not many SeeD could remind themselves of that and truly feel comforted by its truth.

The one thing that had kept him from simply jumping off the nearest balcony had been his rivalry with Seifer. There was an entire meaning to their relationship that no one knew about. The arrogant blonde had eventually pried into his past, managing to piece a few things together before confronting him and making him talk.

It had been the talking that had given him relief. At heart, he and Seifer were possibly the closest of friends. Seifer was ruthless at times, understanding just how tough life could be. The sex between them was nice, and oddly comforting. He was never forced to do it. Seifer was the only person he'd slept with voluntarily, initially doing it for that exact reason and continuing to do it because it felt good.

Squall's life had been about pleasing others, in every way, shape, and form. He'd been conditioned to do what he was told. However, the war had given him a sweet taste of doing what he wanted, not answering to any one and not having to resort to prostitution to bargain. Instead, he'd been able to flex his skills, developing what had begun as a very weak fighter's soul.

To go back to the way things had been before the war was terrifying. Squall didn't want to be sociable, or friendly, or a fucking slut. He wanted silence and the chance to prove that he was best placed in the field, not the bedroom.

Above all else, being alone made him tremble. Being alone with the hollow feeling that everyone has disappeared and wouldn't ever come back. He feared this more than his fourteen year old self feared Norg.

It was a weakness, one he'd never admit to. If he saw everyone walking away, he'd press his lips firmly together and keep his silence. Given the general pattern of loss in his life, he always assumed it would continue. Keeping people far away meant that when they finally left, he wouldn't fall apart. He didn't need anyone. He didn't depend on anyone. He was self sufficient, capable of carrying out every order given without question or help.

But the war turned everything around. He was given the wonderful reprieve of forgetting everything. By the time he became Rinoa's knight, he knew nothing of his time with Norg and nothing of the majority of people he'd slept with. Being the Commander hadn't been fun, but Cid had been nowhere in sight and he'd been in a position to take orders from no one.

Losing his rank and realizing everything might go back to the way it had been wasn't unbearable. What was unbearable, especially after losing his sorceress, was that all his memories came back.

* * *

There was silence and warmth. Slowly, Squall opened his eyes. Foggy grey-blue orbs searched for focus. It took the brunet a moment to remember what had happened and realize where he was. 

It was warm because he was held closely to Laguna. The silence was only a quiet room. There was the lulling sound of rain, still pouring down in torrents. The winds had shifted, no longer angled against the pane. The dim light and shadows made him wonder what time it was. Last he knew, it had been morning, another storm system settling over their area.

Once his mind felt oriented, he reminded himself that everything was in the past, only brought to surface because the knight within him was trying to prevent the loss of his sorceress, making it seem like he needed her.

The fresh memories continued to wash over him. He hadn't been able to remember most of it for the longest time. He'd completely forgotten about Norg. It had been a merciful benefit of Guardian Forces.

He could clearly recall every unwanted touch and caress given by Norg's long spider like fingers, every stomach-churning gaze the elder Shumi gave his small body. He remembered the petrifying fear of realizing Norg was displeased that he'd talked to Quistis and Seifer on their first day in Garden. He remembered the blinding pain as he was split brutally, torn by the purse holder's inhuman sex organ.

He distinctly remembered the shame he felt when Cid found him. The look in the Headmaster's eyes, horrified at what had happened. He'd lain motionless on the cold metal floor of Garden's under level, whimpering in pain before Norg's high throne like chair. He recalled that for some time after he did nothing but replay the day through his mind.

It had been a solid week before he'd been forced to speak again, his absolute silence not tolerated. It had been alright for a while, Cid or someone else always accompanying him to see Norg. He never quite understood what had happened, not until a year or so later.

Now, he shivered in disgust. He wished to have Shiva back, more so now than ever before. He knew his mind was full of unwanted memories, memories that his loving Guardian had taken from him and locked away. It had been a constant worry that they'd come rushing back all at once, but he'd managed to forget even about the thought of his memories coming back.

Two weeks at the Loire Estate and he wasn't sure he could even spell his name correctly. He wasn't a knight anymore, Seifer taking his place. The blonde had been right, Rinoa was a different woman around him. He was involved with his father, pathetically repeating past mistakes of forming attachments. And he couldn't get images of Norg out of his mind.

Perhaps he could blame everything on losing his sorceress. But, he'd only have to explain his actions if he returned to Balamb. At that moment, with everything bottled up inside of him, he wanted nothing more than to stay with Laguna in Esthar for the next fifty years.

Taking a few steady breaths, he ground himself with the present. He felt the body heat given off by the President and the solid feel of arms around him. Regardless of the heavy weight in his chest and the unwanted images of his younger years, he felt oddly at peace. Burrowing his face in the crook of his father's neck, he instinctively sought out that warmth and presence of another person.

He hadn't expected to enjoy being with Laguna as much as he did. He figured the sex would be good, and it had been. But, to find himself endeared by the man's goofball behavior, even laughing at moments when the President would say something entirely ridiculous, had been surprising.

"Hey," Laguna murmured, shifting back to better look at the brunet. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Squall assured, not letting the older man move away, following the movement to press closely

Laguna chuckled, conceding to the boy's want and tightening his hold and raking his fingers through silky strands of chestnut hair. "Do you need anything? Food, water, the bathroom?"

Squall frowned at his apparent reliance upon the older man. He wondered when he'd become so attached. It would be over soon, wouldn't it? Yet, Laguna didn't seem to tire of him. In fact, if anything, the longhaired President seemed to regard him with higher esteem and longing. "Just you," he whispered softly, attributing his dependence to his current state.

Swallowing thickly, Laguna forcibly refrained from squeezing the younger man too tightly. He'd known it from the first night and every moment thereafter. He was in love with Squall, hopelessly in love.

Like Squall, he'd disregarded their blood relation. He doubted he'd overcome completely, not seeing it plausible that he'd magically forget, but he was able to ignore. It was hard to dwell on how wrong their relationship was when every sense told him it was good. Going against the social order seemed to be going along with his human nature, doing what felt good even if the rest of the world would shake a finger at it.

Only time would tell what would happen to them. Laguna had the distinct impression that Squall was holding back, a small part of the young man never giving in to the desire to be with him. It was with great satisfaction that he felt a change in that attitude. Even with each passing hour, he thought he saw those stormy blue eyes gaze into his with reflected love. And with the blonde SeeD's threat, he was assured there was definitely something stirring within his lover.

Squall soaked it all up. He was addicted to the tender care Laguna always gave him. It was the sort of spoiled treatment he found to be foreign. Even after he explained to the man that he greatly enjoyed the sex, pain and all, the President continuously fretted over his condition each time. The man was both kindhearted and stern, strong yet susceptible.

For Squall, the older man was a colossal oxymoron, and it was something he'd come to appreciate.

The former Commander's attachment was growing, already enough to qualify as dangerous. He needed to push away, distance himself. He felt insulted that this man just walked into his life and managed to become close to him in such a short amount of time. Seventeen years without any serious attachments and it only took Laguna fourteen days.

As Squall continued to press close, finding that he was unable to pull away even when he told himself it was for the best, he became angry over his weakness. If he were to keep from losing his mind, he'd need to junction Shiva again. He needed to forget. It was his only way to cope. Forgetting about his time with Laguna would be the only way he'd be able to go back to Balamb, which he'd have to do soon.

The possibility of not returning still held a gut wrenching fear for him. A life without Garden was a life cast in shadow, he didn't know what it would hold. He wanted to be a fighter, a mercenary. But Seifer was right, Cid wouldn't keep him in the field.

News of Rinoa and Seifer would be breaking soon. Squall felt on the verge of losing his sanity, possibly another side effect of Rinoa leaving, or just everything coming at him at once.

The new pair would be returning to Balamb, they might even have already made it. Cid would be phoning. The worst part about it all was that Squall felt hesitant to even mention that he had successfully won Laguna's favor. It was the reason he'd been sent there, but as the man held him and stroked his hair, he began to doubt his ability to follow orders.

For longest time, Squall remained thusly in Laguna's arms. It was a whole different experience, a side to a relationship he'd never really enjoyed before. Laguna was the only one he found himself doing it with. Doing something for himself as a change of pace.

It wasn't all about the happiness and contentment of his partner. The motorcycle may have been enjoyable for Laguna, but it had certainly been meant for his own pleasure. Now, as the older man stayed with him, doing everything he wanted, he began to wonder if he'd ever have this again. Would anyone ever hold him like this? Would anyone care if he'd been handled too roughly during sex? Would anyone care at all?

"You care about me," Squall mumbled quietly against the man's light blue shirt.

Laguna couldn't deny it anymore. He'd sensed that Squall was wary, something within the brunet that shied from becoming too involved. And, it honestly seemed ridiculous to feel so strongly after so little time had passed and still not knowing much about the boy.

"I'm in love with you Squall," Laguna stated solemnly. Fatherhood be damned, he was in love with the young SeeD.

"No," Squall whispered in dismay. Struggling to break away, Squall quickly removed himself from the bed.

"Squall!" Laguna shouted in alarm, stiffly scrambling to follow. He'd been lying in one position too long, his age catching up with him

"I need to be alone," Squall said, scouring the floor before spotting his boots. After grabbing them, he didn't bother putting them or looking back. Once he was out the door, he began running, not even registering that his guard followed.

Laguna would be damned if he was letting Squall just run off like that. "Thomas," he said to the second guard outside the door.

"Sir," the tall bodyguard replied.

"Tell James not to let him leave the estate," Laguna ordered before running off to catch up. This was almost picturesque of what Seifer had warned him about. Declaring his affections only to have Squall literally run away. Maybe it was too much. After such a short time together, the brunet might think him insane for being so serious.

The blonde's other cautionary words echoed in the President's head. He had to follow, not let something like this turn him away.

The moment Squall felt the rain against his skin, he was reminded of why it was actually best not to care. The memories of being left behind were all too fresh, overwhelming him once more as when first struck by his loss of Rinoa. Odine said it might take days, sporadically hitting when he was weakest, driving him to true desperation for his sorceress.

He should have stomped the need for love out of himself long ago, hating the pain it caused him now. He wanted more than anything to be back in Laguna's arms, but he wouldn't do it. His longing for it was a big enough weakness.

It was because of his dependence on others that he felt so hollow, so cold.

Near the top of the long stoop of stairs, the area he'd first wandered to on his first day there, he fell to his knees, oblivious to both the rain and the futile attempts by his guard to bring him back inside.

Balling his fists, he angrily hit the hard stone, furiously punching the unforgiving slab of solid rock as if it had been the cause of his predicament. He felt like he was losing his mind. His priorities were so blurred, he scarcely knew if returning to Balamb or staying with Laguna was more important. He needed to leave, but he couldn't. Was it duty that compelled him to return home or fear of a life unknown?

The damn bastard of a goofball had managed to needle inside of his heart, wrapping it in thorns so that leaving would mean tearing it out.

"Squall!" Laguna cried, nearly sliding past the glass doorway while running in his socks across the polished marble flooring.

With an icy glare, Squall stared over his shoulder at the man accusingly. "This isn't how it's supposed to be," he spat.

"James, would you please wait inside," Laguna requested, unable to figure a way of talking without mentioning what was between them.

Reluctant to comply, James was obligated. The sandy blonde guard joined the President's detail Thomas, leaving the door open just in case.

"Squall," Laguna said firmly, stepping closer, "Don't run away from me, from us."

"There is no us!" Squall shouted, feeling the tearing of the sharp thorns as he steeled himself for what was to come. It was inevitable.

Hurt by the brunet's words, Laguna stilled. He stared at the damp haired boy, uncaring about his own state within the pouring rain. Figuring all along that Squall had trust issues, never easily opening up, let alone exposing his heart, Laguna assured, "I love you, but that's only how I feel. I don't need you to return anything to me. Give me time to win you over."

"No," Squall muttered, shaking his head, hating how sweet and assuring the offer was. Swallowing back a wave of tears, he was unable to distinguish between what might have been his dying knighthood calling for Rinoa or his heart wrenching over breaking everything off with Laguna. "It was just sex," he stated, "That's what I do."

Hazel green eyes narrowed. "What do you do?"

"I seduced you," Squall said, "I didn't mean to, but it happened. I wanted your favor, for you to deal exclusively with Balamb Garden. It was always about you being the President of Esthar."

"That's not true," Laguna declared as if an order.

"It is," Squall said, turning his head away, staring off blankly. Chuckling at the irony of this game he'd been taught to play so well backfiring, he prayed to Hyne that he might receive his Guardian Force at that moment. The jostling movement of his forlorn laughter acted like a gateway, his chest instead shaking with sobs. "Love me now!" he challenged to the older man.

"Hyne, let me forget!" the brunet shouted angrily, wanting to go back to his old self, the man that didn't care or feel. "Shiva!" he begged, continuing to sob.

All at once, the winds whipped about, the temperature dropping.

In disbelief, Squall stood up and gazed at the familiar Ice Queen he'd known for so long.

Shiva's dark blue lips smiled kindly at the pale boy. As the rain turned to snow, she extended a hand, gently caressing the young SeeD's cheek. "Little one," she greeted.

"You came," Squall said, relief flooding him.

"Yes," the otherworldly Guardian agreed.

Squall knew she would lock his memories away, each and every moment he wanted to forget. Every instance when Cid sent him out, his time with Norg, and above all else, his time with Laguna.

With a regretful look towards the longhaired President, he took a brief moment to say goodbye, knowing that the former soldier deserved so much better.

"I'm sorry," Squall said sincerely, "It wasn't supposed to turn out this way."

"What way was it supposed to turn out Squall?" Laguna asked angrily. "Why have you summoned your GF?"

Squall shook his head. "I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you, and you were supposed to get bored," he admitted. "I'll leave, within the hour."

Alarmed, Laguna cried, "You can't leave!" Reaching out, he tried to take hold of the brunet, but Squall stepped back. "I don't care about what started it," he assured, "I still feel the same way, don't leave."

"I'm a coward Laguna," Squall explained, "You deserve so much better than someone like me."

"Wait," Laguna said desperately, "What are you doing?" he watched with growing trepidation as the boy stepped closer to the Ice Queen herself, her presence still unexplained.

"I'm forgetting everything," Squall admitted with shame. "I won't remember our time together," he added gently, selfishly taking the easier way out, not caring about Laguna.

Laguna felt the air stolen from his lungs, watching in horror as the GF disappeared, knowing the Ice Queen had been junctioned.

TBC…


	9. Chapter 9

**Warning: **Explicit content. Squall is back in character, obvious exceptions during sex… not even Squall can keep a straight face when Laguna's doing him.

Living with Heart

Act IX

Eyelids too heavy to open, Squall slowly came to and took in his surroundings without sight. It was soft and comfortable, perhaps in a bed. Gentle hands touched him, peeling off his clothing. The coolness of his skin told him that his clothes were wet.

"Laguna," he whispered, figuring there was no one else who would be taking his clothes off.

"Squall," the President hissed earnestly, as though making it a near whisper could mask his urgency.

Groggily, stormy blue eyes opened, blinking lethargically a few times before capable of focusing on the face above. Laguna hovered a little too close, making it twice as hard for Squall to clear the image up.

The sudden stinging slap to his cheek served quite well to snap his mind into overdrive. Squall barely registered that he'd been slapped when another one came.

"Are you finished," the brunet snapped, turning on his side so that he might sit up.

"Not even close," Laguna declared, almost shaking with the tirade of emotions coursing through him. He wanted to hit the boy again while at the same time he wanted to scoop him up in his arms and hold him.

Squall gave a small shake of his head, throwing off the last vestiges of his haze. Raising a hand to his face he pressed his cool fingers to his right cheek, the one that stung more. "I suppose you write with your left hand too," he mumbled, knowing that Laguna was left handed.

"I'm sorry," the longhaired man broke down. Still wearing his wet clothes, he crawled closer and threw himself at the boy. "Do you remember anything? Hyne Squall, please, you know who I am don't you?"

"Laguna," Squall placated. The former Commander needed a moment to collect himself.

"You can't leave," the older man demanded, "I won't let you." Laguna had never been more frightened in his life. He'd been unable to comprehend what Squall meant by forgetting until he remembered what the Guardian Forces consequently did as a result of junctioning. Most SeeD forgot about their entire childhood, so what would have become of his couple weeks with Squall?

Squall relaxed under familiar weight of the President. "Does that mean you forgive me?" he questioned, feeling more grounded without the painful rift growing inside of himself. As tremendous a weight as having his memories back placed on him, it wasn't unbearable. He'd been in a particularly vulnerable state when it all came back, his mind unstable as the knight within him died.

"Only if you stay with me," Laguna urged. It had been so long since he'd felt such feelings of love for anyone. He was growing old and doubted he'd ever feel this way again.

"If I'm with you, I can't go back to Balamb," the brunet stated dejectedly, his voice muffled as he buried his head against the damp blue dress shirt.

Pulling back, Laguna framed the boy's pale face in his hands, the contrast of skin more noticeable. Staring into grey-blue eyes, he asked, "Do you remember?"

Shiva had been willing to help him, but the frightened look in Laguna's eyes before he'd junctioned her had changed his mind. In that single moment, when he decided to forego the loss of his memories, he condemned himself to the nightmarish dreams that came with his self-loathing and the exile he'd face for defying Cid. He wondered if Laguna would ever know how sorry he was for the farce and how much he'd given up on the whim that in their two weeks together, they had something that would last.

"I wanted to forget," Squall replied. "There are so many things I wanted to forget."

Laguna was hurt by these words, feeling as though Squall were specifically targeting their time together. Gently stroking the boy's warm cheek, made warmer from his strike against it, he asked, "Why did you want to forget about me? What have I done that's so terrible?"

Squall gave a faint smile, almost forlorn. "You've made me love you, and I knew I had to leave." Now he couldn't, now he had chosen to place himself in the hands of this man he felt he barely knew. Two weeks ago, he'd have kicked himself for being so stupid and irresponsible. In fact, he felt extremely wary now that he remembered the full extent of why he needed to not rely on other people.

Almost every man he'd met was like Norg, easily seduced and taken over by lust. It had always been short term, every government official becoming bored after he gave them nothing more than sex. There were a few men who'd become obsessed and that he continually visited, but it was not usually that way. As powerful officials, they couldn't be seen with him, which made their wives far more convenient.

Grinning broadly, a rather goofy smile of sheer elation, Laguna beamed at the brunet. "But you're not leaving," he pointed out.

"Not anymore," Squall agreed evenly, "I can't. If we're involved, I can't go back." It was nice to know that Laguna felt so strongly, wanting him to stay instead of saying it would be best he left. It reassured him that he had a sanctuary, though he didn't like the idea of running away, even if he'd been getting more practice at it lately.

"I don't understand. You could always come back."

"It's complicated," Squall said evasively, abhorring the idea of Laguna ever knowing about his past, about what he'd done, and most of all what he would have done again once back in Balamb.

"I don't care about anything else, just you. You're staying with me, that's all that matters."

Squall couldn't help but disagree, knowing that Cid would demand his return. "You know we can't be anything but what we already are." He stared up into hazel green eyes, once again becoming anchored by the absolute love he saw in them. The limp strands of dark raven hair almost made him smile at Laguna's obliviousness to everything but him. It felt nice to easily hold someone's attention so completely.

"What more could I want?" Laguna asked before leaning down and pressing his lips lightly against Squall's.

"A wife," Squall muttered, "More children, a family, public approval," he would have gone on, but Laguna silenced him by deepening the exchange.

Laguna slipped his tongue into Squall's welcoming mouth. Teasing the brunet, he withdrew after having a quick taste. He found that when done right, Squall became completely susceptible to being needy. It was yet another aspect of the boy he found enticing. The brunet would give off soft whimpers of want, needing for him to do something but too proud to say it. If Laguna could figure out what it was Squall needed quickly enough, he could tease the younger man mercilessly.

"I have all the children I need," the President declare with a soft chuckle. "I'm not sure I could handle any more, you seem to take all my attention on your own."

"Can't help it," Squall said, licking his lips with longing, "I'm a daddy's boy." It was a comment he knew Laguna would appreciate in a strange sense. Perhaps making fun of the fact that they were lovers would help to demerit the taboo.

"I bet you are," Laguna jibed, gently undulating his hips. Nuzzling the boy's slender neck, he inhaled the faint scent of sandalwood. "I love the way you smell," he confessed as if it were a terrible fetish.

"I imagine it reminds you of Galbadia," Squall admitted.

"How'd you know?" Laguna gently nibbled on the brunet's ear.

"Cause I started wearing the cologne after it reminded of the way you smelled in Ellone's dreams." It hadn't been anything other than an odd fancy. Rinoa had been urging him to start wearing something, a scent that made him distinctive. He was content with smelling like shampoo and soap, leather and oil. But, being forced to pick something, he'd chosen this particular scent since it reminded him of Laguna Loire in Deling City. The fragrance surrounded the continent nearby, around the Tomb of the Unknown King and Galbadia Garden. It also served to commemorate his first active role in the field, the attempt to assassinate Edea.

Laguna stilled his movements. Forgetting about teasing Squall, he went right for the young man's plush lips. With fervor, he meshed his own lips to them. He doubted he'd ever learn everything there was to know about Squall. The boy only seemed to admit things one small piece at a time. It set his blood on fire.

Squall spread his legs, bucking up against the handsome President. Parting his lips more, he met the man's seeking tongue with his own, moaning as they desperately entwined the wet appendages in mounting desire.

Physical pleasure could serve as a remedy for the mind when done right, when given so much to experience that the brain couldn't dwell on the unwanted. Squall half suspected that a good fuck would set his mind straight, or at least remind him that taking a chance with Laguna had perks.

Laguna could feel the difference, deep inside of himself and subtly within the succulent responsiveness the brunet gave. Squall was submitting to him completely, open to him completely. It was this feeling more than anything that made him realize how much the young man actually cared.

Admittedly, Laguna was surprised by it. He was pushing fifty and it always seemed too good to be true that Squall was with him, not to mention highly bizarre. Each passing day had given him greater anxiety about the boy becoming bored, deciding that it had been a nice little adventure while it lasted but that the thrill of the forbidden was over. To know that he'd had such an effect on Squall was a rather nice ego booster, especially since he hadn't been anything but his usual klutzy self.

Squall's hands blindly unbuttoned Laguna's shirt, finding his progress was slowed as he kept forgetting what he was supposed to be doing. As his raven-haired partner impatiently pulled back and tore the damp garb off, he reached out and raked his fingers across the man's chest. It was smooth tanned skin, more tanned near the neck. Dark hairs trailed from the man's navel and down past the waist of black dress pants.

Laguna watched, enjoying the way delicate hands roved his form, loving how Squall seemed to find him sexy. He hadn't considered himself attractive since his days as a soldier, but Squall thought differently.

Coyly, Squall looked up from beneath low lids. Slowing his progress, he undid the button, giving a small tug to the material that wasn't baggy, but hugged the man's fit waist nicely.

Slowly, Squall pulled the zipper down, pointedly wetting his lips more than once. Once undone, he sensuously sat up, spreading his legs wider. Coming flush against Laguna's stomach, he began with soft kisses that soon turned into gentle nips. Swirling his tongue along the man's navel, he slid his hands down the back of the President's pants and gave an appreciative squeeze to firm buttocks.

Giving off a soft groan, Laguna pressed his hips forward, wanting to feel something against his hardening cock.

"Patience," Squall murmured, giving a final nip to Laguna's abs. Sitting straighter, he slid his hands higher to massage knotted muscles, feeling with satisfaction that they were not nearly as tight since he'd first started sleeping with the man. One of these days, he'd give a deep tissue massage, when they had plenty of time to spend on it.

"Patience has never been something I've ever had," Laguna declared, breaking Squall's hold and pushing the boy back down to the bed. The brunet's little act of doting pleasure had only served to arouse him to the point of having to hurry things up. He'd say Squall was in a similar state, the boy's erection rubbing between them.

With a small simper of agreement, Squall hitched his legs higher. "I want you inside me now," he whispered breathily.

"What a coincidence," Laguna replied, rocking to his haunches to maneuver out of his pants, taking his boxers with them. "I want to be inside of you. Do you think we can come to some sort of agreement?"

"Less talk," Squall said. After realizing for the first time that they were in his room, he reached back behind the pillow, hoping it was still there. Much as he enjoyed hearing most of what Laguna had to say, the man sometimes talked too much. In time, he'd prove that actions spoke louder than words, especially in the bedroom.

Laguna reached out, taking the small plastic bottle of massage oil from Squall's hand. He was trying to become better at it each time, the first few times watching Squall prepare himself, then slowly taking over.

With amusement, Squall watched the concentrating President give pause as if remembering exactly how to do it. Laguna could be adorably cute at times.

"Flip over," the older man ordered lightly.

Squall couldn't help but feel excited at whatever Laguna had in mind, knowing he'd done so many pleasurable things that had yet to be returned. The easygoing man seemed shy in that respect, not ready to try a hand at every form of pleasuring.

Once on all fours, Squall gave an expectant look over his shoulder, as if to ask if this is what the man wanted.

Laguna grinned at Squall's compliance, loving how the boy catered to his every whim. Caressing the smooth flesh of the SeeD's lithe back, he gave a light push, signaling for Squall to lean down lower.

With the brunet's lower half propped up for him, Laguna set the bottle of lubricant aside. Gently spreading pale cheeks, he didn't hesitate to lean closer and lave his tongue across the puckered entrance.

Squall arched wildly, his head tossing about the pillow as he tried to stifle a cry of pleasure. He certainly hadn't been expecting that.

Laguna was quite encouraged by the brunet's reaction. He teasingly ran his tongue across the entrance before probing it.

"Laguna!" Squall cried out, fiercely gripping the bedding beneath him.

"You like that?" the older man teased before pressing his tongue in again, going deeper.

"Oh Hyne!" the brunet called out once more. He'd never experienced it for himself and he couldn't begin to wonder why it felt so good.

In torturous delight, Laguna continued his ministrations. However, it wasn't long before he felt as if he'd come from hearing the brunet's voice cry out.

Regretfully, Laguna reached for the discarded bottle and flipped it open. As much as he wanted to please Squall, the brunet's sweet voice was shooting straight to his groin and he wouldn't be able to last very long if it kept up.

With a soft sigh, Squall relaxed. His member was leaking precum already, the pearly essence beading at the head as cue that their debauchery should be sped up. However, his relaxation was short lived as a slippery finger pushed inside of him.

Laguna quickly added a second finger, scissoring the tight opening gently. By the time he was thrusting four fingers into that gripping heat, he felt ready to burst. Squall seemed to be in a similar state of need.

"Turn back over," Laguna ordered huskily, wanting to watch Squall's face as it contorted in ecstasy.

"Please," Squall panted. He was already writhing, needing to have the President's pulsing cock filling him with painful bliss.

With demanding roughness, Laguna flipped the boy around. "I want to see your beautiful face as I fuck you," the older man explained, knowing he'd be blushing furiously at saying such a thing had he not known Squall had an ear for such words and a body made for being handled forcefully.

"Hyne, fuck me," Squall urged as he drew his legs up, ready to beg if only to have Laguna pounding into him.

With a groan, Laguna coated his length in the oil before slowly pushing the mushroomed head of his thick cock inside the brunet's tight opening.

Squall bit his lip, falling silent as he finally received what he wanted. With sweet surrender, he allowed Laguna to bind his wrists above his head, held in place with one of the man's strong hands.

In one hard thrust, Laguna sank into the sinful depths of his son's body. The boy's voice was like music as it cried out in pain. The notes would soon change to a sweeter melody of utter ecstasy. He'd wring each quiet simper, every incoherent cry, and every cock twitching scream of his name from Squall's elegant throat.

With spine tingling anticipation, Squall savored the feel of being split with searing heat, feeling the initial pain recede slowly. It was the sort of pain that wasn't unwanted, because it wasn't intentional and never more than he could handle. He knew what was coming when Laguna gave a squeeze to his wrists.

Taking a deep breath and releasing it, he relaxed his muscles. Arching, he felt the firm grip on his wrists.

"Squall, look at me," Laguna urged, wanting to see those stormy eyes while he made love to the younger man.

Having had his eyes closed, trying to feel every subtle trill of pleasure shoot through his body, Squall opened his eyes. A different sort of trilling pleasure ran through his entire body as he stared up into hazel green eyes.

The room was dim, the storm outside heightening to a whole knew level. Lightening flashed and thunder clapped loudly only seconds after. Yet, all other elements didn't even register.

The bed was soft and inviting for a night's sleep. The air was chilly for an exposed body, though not for two bodies having sex. The temperatures were monitored precisely within the estate, lower at night within private quarters to make curling under the bedcovers all the more enjoyable. The rain outside was pouring in heavy torrents, chinking against the clear glass pane, drizzling down and blurring any view.

Squall would later realize that he didn't need Guardian Force to forget. He had Laguna.

Within that room of the President's enormous estate, upon that bed, Squall felt and saw nothing else but the man above him. The former soldier's caring gaze, the affection and love unsurpassed by the lust even at such a moment, mesmerized him.

Laguna's presence washed over Squall with a feeling of clean love, something that he could trust and accept. He felt like a naïve child again, always willing to try something again even if it hurt him the first ten times before. He'd once tried to look to Cid as his father, searching for the Headmaster's love, and it had lead him to being sent off for greater profits of giving Dollet's governor blowjobs.

"Hey," Laguna whispered softly, almost cooing. He brought his free hand up to gently stroke Squall's cheek. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No," Squall answered honestly, not certain why the older man seemed especially concerned this time around. It was another moment before he felt the warm wetness against his cheek, Laguna's thumb wiping away tears he hadn't known he'd shed.

"If you want to stop, it's okay." Much as the idea of stopping made Laguna want to begin thrusting before the brunet could tell him to pull out, he didn't think he was capable of forcing himself on Squall.

Squall's brows drew together. The meaning of Laguna's words was greater than the President could possibly know. To submit and surrender himself so completely, and to still have the older man giving him a wonderful sense of control was more than anyone had ever done for him.

He tried to move his arms, struggling against Laguna's hold. Immediately, when it became apparent he wanted his wrists freed, they were released. Nothing was against his wishes, a sort of security he'd never experienced prior to this quirky man.

Squall wrapped his arms around Laguna's neck, drawing the man closer as he held on. He felt that the raven haired President was momentarily stunned, a certain tenseness that meant the older man wasn't sure if he was giving the go ahead or calling it to an end.

As soothing hands ran up and down Squall's sides, returning the gentle hug, the brunet said, "Move."

Bowing his head against the smaller young man's shoulder, Laguna pulled out and thrust back in. As proud as he was of the successful person his son had grown up to be, he'd always felt remorse over leaving the boy behind. Yet now, as he gave shallow thrusts in and out of that tight entrance, he was actually glad he hadn't raised the boy as his son. If he'd known Squall as his son before he'd known him as the Commander, he doubt he'd ever overcome the barrier of their blood relation.

The truth of what they were to each other wasn't the only contingency to be had with the relationship. If the young man wasn't always whispering how sexy he looked, he doubt he'd be able to forget that he was nearly three times his lover's age.

As Laguna rocked in and out of him, Squall sucked on the man's neck, kissing along the shoulder and nipping each time his prostate gland was stimulated.

"You have no idea what you do to me," Laguna declared, drawing out farther and pushing in harder.

"Ahhn," Squall moaned softly, feeling the man's large cock pushing deeply inside. Laguna had to have known how mutual the feeling was, that the man made him feel things he'd never felt before.

Laguna moved his left arm away, sliding it down Squall's bare body, groping every inch in reach. He settled his lecherous hand behind the brunet's knee, hitching the leg higher as he continually increased the pace of his thrusts.

The closeness of their upper bodies created enough friction to satisfy Squall's leaking member. Between Laguna thrusting into him and the man's stomach rubbing against his penis, he felt himself quickly rising to release.

"I'm close," Squall said while tossing his head back and bucking against the President.

Laguna was glad to hear that, being close himself and not certain he could hold out much longer. Picking the pace up, he began to mercilessly pound into lovely young man. It was so tight, a succulent pleasure he'd never get over.

The harsh slaps of their skin only served to intensify the experience, the erotic noise joining their panting breaths and cries of pleasure. Laguna imagined that had the bed been any less expensive, it would have been creaking and rocking in protest, quite possibly breaking under the intense strain they placed it under.

"Laguna," Squall whimpered, tensing up as his orgasm came. It started deep, his cock twitching before spurting ribbons of cum.

Laguna grunted his acknowledgment, slamming into that tight body over and over. The already impossibly tight muscles clamped sporadically around his thrusting member, demanding that he come. As his balls clenched up and his organ jerked, he continued to pound into the boy.

Straightening up a bit, he threw his head back as wave after wave of ecstasy rolled through him. He filled Squall with his hot seed, copious amounts verifying just how unbelievably good it felt. He tensed as he spent himself, a final thrust pushing his cock deeply inside of Squall.

Cum marked each of their conquests, covering both their stomachs and leaking out of the brunet's tight opening.

"Squall," the Estharian muttered before he collapsed atop the younger man. As gentle fingers attempted to stroke his hair, carefully combing the damp and tangled strands, he gave soft kisses to any bit of flesh he could touch. Along the SeeD's shoulder, neck, and jaw, he simply pressed his lips in butterfly kisses. Without really thinking, he hummed in encouragement of those delicate fingers. "My little prince," he murmured lazily, his mind drifting the same as his sated body.

Jostling chuckles moved Squall's chest. Conceding to the cuteness of the nickname, he hoped Laguna could come up with something a bit more manly. "Does that make you my princess?" he asked with sarcasm.

"Huh?" Laguna asked taken aback.

More chuckling followed. Squall watched as the older man blinked in confusion, a face he saw quite often. When seeing it in Ellone's dreams, he'd been annoyed, but now he loved it.

Once Laguna understood, he gave mock laughter, realizing the brunet was amused at his expense. "I'm your knight in shining armor," he asserted, giving a nudging tickle to the brunet's ribs. As Squall squirmed at the attack, he continued until he had the boy laughing outright, a sound he revered above all.

When Laguna stopped and Squall settled down again, the younger man stared into hazel green eyes for a solemn moment. "I don't need a knight in my servitude," he said evenly in thought, judging by his impassive tone.

Dipping down, Laguna captured Squall's lips. "Then I'll be your king." He was beginning to understand Squall's reluctance for leadership, preferring to stand off alone than to order others around. "You're my Little Prince," he murmured once again, this time thinking about the title before saying it. He doubted the nick name would stick, but he could whisper it silently.

Squall sighed. "I suppose there are worse pet names," he conceded. With a small smile, he added, "My King."

Laguna gave a soft grunt of approval. "Say it again," he urged.

"No," Squall shot down.

"Stubborn Little Prince," the President called before rolling off the boy. "We both need a shower," he said, extending his hand out as he stood up. "Your king commands it," he added with a grin.

One shower and second round of sex later, the pair settled down beneath the plush bedding. The soft warmth of cotton flannel pants adorned them both, due to a demure sense of modesty within Laguna. The President preferred not to sleep completely nude.

Squall furled against the older man, warmly accepted by open arms.

TBC…


	10. Chapter 10

Warning: More mentioning of Squall's past, nothing graphic but still disturbing. This is certainly a darker fic for me… so please keep in mind that it's far from being rainbows and sunshine.

Living with Heart

Act X

"Is the President in there?" Kiros asked, standing outside of unfamiliar quarters. He'd been directed to the two most likely places he'd find Laguna, the first being the President's rooms and the second being Squall's rooms. Since there were no guards outside the former, he tried the second one in hopes of not spending the entire day tracking his occasionally flighty friend down.

"Yes sir, he is," Thomas answered, knowing that the President's advisor was allowed to see President Loire at all times.

"Sir," James spoke up, having his own suspicions about why the father and son spent so much time together. He'd actually begun to think that their being related was some big cover up so that the President could have the Balamb Lion as a secret lover.

Kiros stopped, retracting his hand from the door's handle upon hearing the tone of voice the second guardsman spoke in.

James knew there was no logical reason he could come with to keep the dark skinned advisor from entering, but he could warn the man. "President Loire is likely sleeping, it's been a rough day. Just a word of caution is all, sir."

Giving a curt nod of understanding, Kiros proceeded. His clearance level was second only to the President's, his prints giving him access.

Given what he'd recently learned about Seifer Almasy becoming Rinoa Heartilly's knight, he could imagine that Laguna was with his son during the rough time. Though, he was quite upset with his friend for never mentioning what was going on. This was the sort of thing that needed widespread approval before happening.

The main area of the quarters was a large living room. Unlike the larger private quarters in the palace, it had three rooms only. There was the main room, furnished with a plush midnight blue suede couch and viewing screen for the occupant's pleasure. Then there was the bedroom, and off the bedroom was a bathroom. Additional luxuries were easily supplied upon request, such as direct access to food or room service. Although, there really weren't many servants on hand, the estate rarely being used.

Kiros walked in further, his feet silent and robes barely dangling a millimeter above the whit-grey rug. The couch was vacant, which surprised him. He honestly didn't think Laguna would be in Squall's bedroom, especially since the boy was cold hearted and not likely to welcome his kindhearted friend.

After much research, Kiros felt he'd uncovered enough on Squall's past to last a lifetime. He hadn't come all the way out to the estate to tell Laguna about it. He was still debating whether or not he should, not sure he'd even absorbed the truth of it yet. He'd only come to speak with the President about the recent situation with the knight Almasy and sorceress Rinoa.

Thinking that the boy had broken down and Laguna had been there, knowing the longhaired man to be particularly sensitive to other people's pain, he thought it might be reasonable to find that Laguna had fallen asleep.

As Kiros opened the door, he stared for several minutes, not certain his eyes were working properly. His imagination could stretch several scenarios, involving Laguna falling asleep in a chair drawn nearby or maybe even on the bed with Squall. Even someone like Squall wouldn't turn company away at such a vulnerable time.

However, nothing in the advisor's mind could contrive how his soldier buddy wound up sleeping naked beneath the bedcovers with an equally naked brunet held closely. There were very few things that would warrant the lack of clothing.

Suddenly, Kiros recalled all the files he'd managed to retrieve on the boy. The little fucker had actually come to Esthar to prostitute to his own father. Any respect for the boy's wartime efforts was thrown out the window and sympathy for the stories he'd heard squashed.

Striding forward, he felt his anger building. Laguna would never get over any of this, the kindhearted man would be scarred for life. He couldn't imagine how the little slut had convinced his friend that it was okay. Perhaps blackmailing the former Galbadian somehow.

Roughly grabbing the brunet's arm, gripping it with bruising force, he yanked the boy away. It was too bad for the SeeD that he was not rusty with his reflexes and easily blocked the swift punch that came right before he managed to pull Squall over the edge of the bed. With a crumpling thud, the boy went down.

A low growl sounded as the ambushed brunet sought to find his balance before striking back. Kiros was quick however, and hadn't just woken up. Taking a fist full of Squall's thick chestnut hair, he jerked the lean body like a rag doll, finding that the lithe form was hardly a challenge once captured.

Waking abruptly, hazel green eyes saw before comprehension set in. In shock, Laguna scrambled to stop Kiros. "Kiros, what the hell are you doing?" he questioned sternly, quickly following as Squall was dragged out of the room. He was mildly surprised to lose sight and then to find that Squall was vying for control, sitting atop a fallen Kiros.

"You're twenty years too late to take me Seagill," Squall hissed vehemently, holding a single stolen Katal to the man's throat. However, Squall was far from having any issues with Kiros aside from the obvious spat that had just occurred. Knowing the man was important to Laguna, he eased the sharp blade away and flipped it over, grasping the tip carefully and offering it up.

As Kiros reached up to take his weapon, his ego sorely beaten, the boy climbed off of him. He was somewhat relieved to note the presence of baggy pants, flannel bottoms that suggested the two had simply been sleeping. Though, the lack of shirts seemed to refute this and call him an idiot for striving for a rational explanation.

Angry, Laguna stormed closer. His pride swelled for his son, taken by surprise but never truly taken at all. "What in Hyne's name was that?" the President raged, chest puffed out and back straightened so that he wouldn't be any shorter than his tall friend.

Squall suddenly felt terribly apprehensive. The last time he'd spoken with Kiros, the keen advisor had promised to find out the entire truth of his past. He didn't doubt that it was possible, but he hadn't really thought the older man would think it worth the time.

As dark brown eyes leveled him with a hateful gaze, Squall felt his stomach drop. Kiros knew and had come here to tell Laguna. There was only one person who knew about all that he'd done and didn't hold it against him, and he wasn't hopeful that Laguna would react the same way Seifer had.

"We need to talk," Kiros said to Laguna, "And your son needs to go back to Balamb."

Though Squall blanched at these words, his face remained impassive. How fitting it would be to be sent back after finally taking a leap of faith and choosing to stay. He had a feeling that he'd done something in another lifetime that had pissed off the fates. Or maybe this was his punishment for once again reaching out. He'd be turned away until he finally learned the damn lesson, until he learned to prevent such situations.

"Why, what's happened?" Laguna questioned with worry, glancing from Squall to Kiros. He wondered if something had happened to any of Squall's friends.

Kiros clenched his narrow jaw, wryly casting a gaze at Squall as if to ask whether the pale boy were proud of taking advantage of such a caring man. Apparently Laguna didn't understand the meaning of his tone. "We really need to speak alone."

Thinking twice about what just happened, Laguna glared at his friend. "What's going on? Why exactly did you drag Squall out of bed?"

At the mentioning of Squall being in bed, Laguna seemed to realize the circumstances Kiros had found him in. He paled before blushing deeply. Nervously shifting from foot to foot, the longhaired President couldn't really think of an excuse. He'd never lied to Kiros before. He'd also never planned ahead for the very likely situation of someone discovering what had been going on.

Everything just seemed to happen so fast. The past two weeks had turned Laguna's head right around. He should have stopped and given it more consideration after the blonde knight revealed knowledge on the matter, but then Squall had fallen apart and his time was consumed with worry for the boy.

"I can explain," Laguna fumbled, starting with the assurance that there was an explanation in the hopes that one would then be automatically provided for him.

"Whatever happened," Kiros said, obviously hinting at something seedy, "I don't hold it against you." In all honesty, he wasn't sure his brain could grasp the gravity of what Laguna might have done. "There are things you don't know about him. It could have happened to anyone." He'd run the DNA tests himself, he knew without a doubt of the shared blood. He wasn't sure how Squall could have managed to coerce the President into it.

"There are things you don't understand," Squall said quietly, his tone carrying a biting edge.

"What things?" Laguna asked the both of them in confusion, wondering just how much was going on other than the fact that he was sleeping with his own son.

"Things such as why this isn't your fault. Whatever he's doing, we can fix this."

Brows drawn as his confusion only increased, Laguna stared at his lanky friend. "I'm lost," he stated with a heavy sigh. Shrugging indifferently, he gave up trying to figure anything out on his own. "Let's go to my office," he suggested taking an initial step to the door, but then stopping. "I'll go get dressed," he announced. "And then ask Mr. Portier where my office in this place actually is."

Swallowing nervously, Squall felt his heart drop when Laguna made no mention about whether he was to stay or not. Forcing himself to remain impassive, he stood still and waited. It wasn't exactly the sort of situation that he could take charge of.

"I love you Kiros," Laguna's voice assured from within the bedroom. "But if you lay a hand on Squall again, make no mistake that I won't let it slide."

Kiros didn't respond, he only glared at the former Commander he'd held in high esteem only minutes before.

Silently, Squall moved to the couch, not knowing what else he was supposed to say or do. In Esthar, he had no standing or power. It actually wasn't much unlike in Balamb, but at the moment he felt particularly useless, like he couldn't even speak up. What exactly could he say to placate the dark skinned advisor? Any information gathered from sources other than Laguna or himself would support the idea that he had come here to seduce and extort the President. And worse yet, if asked personally, he couldn't exactly say that it hadn't started out that way.

As Laguna left with Kiros, leaving without any signs of affection towards Squall for obvious reasons, he was puzzled by the boy's dejected state. Solemnly sitting huddled on the couch, as if trying to disappear into the fabric. His eyes watched the back of chestnut hair until the door closed.

Squall winced at the sound of the door clicking shut. Things had become such a mess, and it was only the tip of the iceberg.

Walking in fast strides, a grim expression darkening his face, Laguna rolled the sleeves of his wrinkled dress shirt up. He'd had no extra clothes stored in Squall's room, and he didn't want to think how long it would have taken him to fit into the younger boy's clothes.

"How long have you been sleeping with him?" Kiros questioned bluntly, his voice lowered as a single guard followed close behind.

Hazel green eyes widened and a deep blush flushed the longhaired man's cheeks. "Kiros, I don't know what you must think of me. Please try and understand that it's complicated. I love him."

"I'm sure you do," Kiros said calmly. "You and dozens of other men out there are certainly enamored with him."

"Why do I get the feeling none of this surprises you?"

"Laguna, I was quite shocked, but it makes sense to me. We need to discuss this in private, wait until we reach the office."

"Do you know where it is?" Laguna questioned.

"Yes," Kiros said with a small smile. "I swear, you couldn't navigate your way out of a paper bag."

Tensely returning the smile, Laguna nodded in agreement. "It might depend on how big a bag we're talking."

For the President, the walk was over quickly, the inevitable discussion of his activities speeding close.

With a heavy heart, Laguna cast a glance around the office, a room he'd never been in. Any work he'd managed to do between his times with Squall had been done right from his private rooms.

Light grey carpeting that looked as though it had never been walked on covered the floor. A large mahogany desk, void of all items except a small videophone and laptop, sat at the far end of the room. The walls held various pictures, scenic images of Esthar both inside and outside the heart of the city. There were three chairs, one behind the desk and two before it.

The long room lacked any personal touches, reminding the President that this was not the palace he was used to. Before he could think to remember that everything might fall apart, he made a mental note to spruce the place up since he'd probably do more work from the estate now that Squall was with him.

Dragging the large armchair a bit, Laguna set it to face the identical one beside it. Sitting on the soft piece of furniture, he waited for Kiros to do the same.

Once they faced each other, Kiros started to speak.

"I was suspicious about Squall after that celebration party, so I did some research on him."

"Suspicious?" Laguna questioned, hazel green eyes staring into dark brown ones. Only Kiros and Ward could possibly talk to him now without any trace of disgust at what he'd done.

"The way General Caraway and Governor Zimmer talked about him. And I spoke with him just before he went back to his room. His records have been tampered with." Kiros thought about his words before correcting, "No, they weren't tampered with. Cid Kramer made certain the information put in was screened and changed before it was documented."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, he hasn't been doing what normal SeeD do." Kiros was still on the fence about how much he should tell Laguna. If he mentioned the boy's childhood, then the President would immediately think to take the blame for it. "He's been trained to seduce people. By principle, mercenaries don't really have high morals or strict codes of conduct."

"Are you saying that SeeD are like prostitutes?" Laguna's brows drew together as he tried to alter his perspective, knowing Kiros would never lie to him but not seeing how something like this could escape his attention.

"No, just Squall," the Presidential Advisor answered. "I know he's your son, and you think you're in love… but it's like a game to him. Either for money or blackmail or to create alliances, Cid and Squall have acquired a list of dozens of politicians and officers."

"That can't be," Laguna muttered, falling back into his seat. He recalled Squall's confession before summoning Shiva. Squall admitted to seducing him, despite his knowledge that the brunet had done nothing of the sort.

"Those men at the party, they've all paid to have sex with Squall at one time or another. I wouldn't tell you this if I weren't absolutely positive."

"He's never asked me for anything Kiros. He's been distant at times, like it was only physical, but not anymore. I know he cares about me."

"He hasn't asked for anything at all? He's never mentioned Esthar's trade agreement with Timber? Has he ever talked about telling others about your relationship or threatened to say something?"

"No!" Laguna shouted. "He's just given up his knighthood to be with me!" Standing abruptly, Laguna paced around the back of the chair. "What the fuck are you telling me?"

"Laguna, I'm saying that he planned all of this. I'm sure that if he hasn't hinted at what he wants, he would have soon enough. Giving up his position as a knight was just a gesture to make it seem like what you had was real."

"No!" Laguna refuted, his heart beating faster with dread. "It's not like that."

"Laguna," Kiros placated.

"No!" Still pacing, he shook his head, raven strands tossing about. "You don't know him like I do."

"You don't know him," Kiros returned with a voice of reason. "He's almost eighteen and you met him five months ago. By that time, he'd been taught how to lie and use people. You're his dad. If you weren't also the President of Esthar, what do you think he'd be doing? I can guarantee you, he wouldn't be sleeping with you."

"I made the first move, Kiros. I'm the one who started it. It might make a sick man, but you have no idea how I feel about him."

"He'd like you to think that you initiated it. Think of what that would mean? If he claims he came here under the pretense of getting to know his dad, and then says that you molested him or raped him. Do you know what that would do to your presidency? He'd be able to ask for anything from us."

Laguna kept pacing, but he didn't reply. He tried to push Kiros' words away, but they sank into his brain and settled. He recalled the way Squall had been so accepting of it all, as if their shared blood meant nothing. Was it because Squall never saw him as a father, but always as the President? The young man had said as much, that it had always been about him being the President.

Another part of the confused man reminded him of what had just happened only hours ago outside in the rain. "It might have started out that way, but it's different now."

"Don't just see what you want to see," Kiros ordered, impressing a sense of disillusion into his friend.

"I'm not," Laguna said solemnly. Coming around, he settled back into the chair. "He said he seduced me, that it was about me being the President. He said he was sorry for what he'd done, and that he was going to leave. He tried to junction a GF to forget everything that happened."

"To forget?" Kiros remarked with disbelief. Forgetting would mean not being able to use any of what happened.

"It was while he needed Rinoa. I told him I loved him and he ran away. I mean, he literally jumped out of bed and bolted. He said he wasn't supposed to turn out this way, that he wasn't supposed fall in love with me." Laguna looked his friend in the eyes. "Kiros, he was in no state to be playing games or putting up fronts. I know him better than you think."

"Even if what you say is true, he's still dangerous. This ends now. It's not too late to make sure none of it gets out."

"He's not going back to Balamb," Laguna stated firmly.

"He has too. If he hasn't already reported back to Balamb, then it will be suspicious. Laguna, can you vouch for him? As President of Esthar, are you willing to put your entire presidency on the line for the belief that this boy's intentions are pure?"

"I am," Laguna responded immediately.

Sighing heavily, Kiros rubbed his forehead. He couldn't tell if Laguna had clouded judgment or not. "Do you understand what I mean when I say that if Squall wanted to make you believe something, he could do it? This is what he's been raised to do Laguna, are you so certain you can the truth from lies?"

Slightly hesitant this time, Laguna stared at his friend for a long moment. "I didn't know for certain, but from our first night together…" he trailed off as he blushed, realizing once more exactly what he was referring to.

Coughing uncomfortably, Kiros supplied, "The first time you had sexual relations with the boy."

Blushing more deeply, Laguna nodded. "I could tell something was off. It was like Squall was ready to give me anything, but never everything. Do you know what I mean?"

Kiros considered what Laguna meant. Given the boy's history, there was no telling how the former Commander was wired. His initial impressions of the young SeeD had been that Squall was withdrawn and detached, only seeing the facts and forming strategies with a level of coldhearted genius that only came with being the top mercenary in existence. Now, he knew the boy was so much more. Beneath that icy exterior was the same calculating creature, but with unpredictable behavior. Squall Leonhart was perhaps the most dangerous man alive, with personal leverage of so many leaders and influential people. There also the small factor that the boy was perhaps the strongest fighter out there.

"I'm not sure you'd even want everything he has to offer," Kiros mumbled absently, thinking of the baggage someone like this boy must carry.

Studying Kiros' solemn and thoughtful face, Laguna asked, "What exactly does that mean? What aren't you saying?"

Blinking, Kiros waved a hand in dismissal. "If he stays here, questions will fly and I guarantee Cid, or someone else involved will leak something and start rumors."

"Kiros, I've been upfront about what's between myself and Squall, something I promise you I'm hardly proud of. I expect you to be the same. If I have to, I'll find out for myself."

"You don't want to know," the taller man assured, "There are some things best left alone."

"Does it have to do with Squall?"

"Yes."

Expectantly, Laguna shifted in his chair, settling in as if for hearing a long story. "Then tell me."

Shaking his head, Kiros came to the decision that the specifics of Squall's past were best left unsaid. Laguna didn't need to know, and was better off not knowing.

"I will find out," Laguna said with conviction.

Kiros was reminded of his brief talk with the former Commander during the celebration party. He'd made good on his promise to find out and he didn't doubt that Laguna would do the same. "You're putting me in a bad place Laguna. As your friend, I'm telling you there are things about Squall you just shouldn't know."

"He's my son," Laguna hissed.

"He's your lover, he can't be both."

Hazel eyes blinked as Kiros' words set in. "I thought you would have hated me for what I've done," he admitted.

Chuckling, Kiros assured, "I don't think I could ever hate you. I know you too well to let anything ruin my opinion of you. While I'm not particularly fond of the boy, I do see how he manages to draw people in so easily. I can't blame you for being human Laguna, but aside from myself and Ward, I doubt anyone would see it that way."

"Thank you for understanding."

With a small smile, Kiros replied, "That's what I'm here for."

"So, tell me what it is I don't want to know," Laguna said, returning again to the subject Kiros was stubbornly trying to avoid.

Holding his breath for a struggling moment of inner debate, Kiros let it out in a heavy sigh. Folding his hands and resting his elbows on his knees, he leaned forward. "I found out most of what I needed to know, and many things I wish I didn't know, from Milla Kadowaki. She's the resident doctor at Balamb Garden and has worked there for twenty years."

"So, she was there when Squall arrived," Laguna interjected to show he was following along.

"Yes," Kiros agreed with a small nod. "She cares about Squall a great deal, or so I gather from our conversations about him. And, she quite despises the Headmaster."

Eyes widening momentarily, Laguna reminded himself that Cid Kramer was involved in this apparent scheme that Squall participated in.

Most of what Kiros knew, and grudgingly relayed to Laguna, were of medical injuries that Dr. Kadowaki had treated. The older woman had seen general bruising that she wasn't able to attribute to anything but roughhousing until years later. The usual scrapes and bumps that adventurous young boys obtained. Though she was always surprised, knowing Squall was a rather tame child, never really seeming to be the sort that went around playing, especially when Squall was the youngest person in Garden.

The turning point for her had been when Squall was sent to her in a small huddled heap of bruised flesh with severe anal tearing. It was then she questioned what had happened to Squall. The fourteen-year-old boy was obviously traumatized and had obviously been raped. The viscous fluids intermingled with blood, which she had secretly tested, told her a Shumi had been involved in the act.

The only answers she received from Cid had been that Squall was like a son, hence his presence at Garden, and that the boy had a fascination with mercenary life. The Headmaster hadn't even tried to give her a better explanation for what had happened to Squall's body, just that he'd fallen after climbing around the rocky areas of Balamb's mountain base.

She'd seen Squall riding down to the basement all the time, narrow shoulders seeming to slouch under some weight. Her power was insufficient and Squall wouldn't talk to her.

She had tried to bring in a therapist, a doctor friend of hers, but the opportunity to see Squall was usually based on if he needed treatment for an injury. And following the event that she felt certain involved Garden's sponsor raping the boy, Squall wasn't often in need of her help.

She tried to keep a close eye on him, frequently seeking him out to casually pass in the hall and offer a warm greeting. Even if it was only a simple hello, she'd hoped to become closer and gain his confidence. Squall was the reason she remained at Balamb, and she had a feeling he knew what she'd been up to.

The older woman found it more distressing that the former Commander began to require unlimited stores of remedies and potions. It was around the same time that the young man began to take trips, often gone for weeks at a time as if he'd just up and left. She couldn't imagine why, at least not until he'd required assistance after one particular absence.

There were pictures, which had been taken as evidence, despite being told to patch Squall up and keep it off the record. When Kiros had hinted that he might be capable of influencing what happened to Squall in the near future, she'd pleaded the case openly.

The Presidential Advisor had seen the pictures, something he wasn't in debate about telling or showing Laguna. Kiros remained vague about his accounting. However, in his head he could recall the images.

A three-month visit to the former governor of Dollet had found Squall subjected to the old man's sadistic fetishes.

Kadowaki had been informed in greater depth about the situation by Seifer Almasy. The resident Balamb Garden bully had brought Squall to her, initially declaring that he had nothing to do with it and that she needed to keep it a secret. She hadn't seen Squall in months and wasn't sure what to think when the boy's rival came in for her help.

A call had been placed. Squall had called Seifer for help, asking for the blonde to come to Dollet for him. Kadowaki still expressed confusion over the matter, not understanding why Squall would have called Seifer or why Seifer had risked expulsion to sneak off to Dollet and retrieve the boy. She also didn't understand what had transpired that lead Seifer to wait so long to seek out medical treatment, waiting until they were back at Garden.

The wounds were easy enough to heal, the trouble being malnourishment and the fact that some of the deeper cuts had been left untreated for so long. Squall's wrists and ankles had been worn raw. The boy's usually pale back showed a series of welts that implied whipping with some sort of paddle, something that didn't quite break the skin but must have stung just the same as if it did.

Considering her report on the incident had been taken and destroyed, she made certain to keep the digital copy of everything hidden away. She never understood any of it, only did what she could as a doctor.

After summarizing his findings to Laguna, Kiros almost felt guilty about his anger towards the former Commander. But, he reminded himself that Squall had become a strong mercenary, perfectly capable of simply walking away from it all.

For several long minutes, Laguna remained still and silent in his seat. Unmoving, the longhaired President stared at the floor between his feet.

Eyes unfocused, not really able to see the light colored rug, Laguna just stared. His lips formed words that his brain hadn't approved of yet. "He didn't grow up at the orphanage with other children. He was at Garden being violated by sick men… my son… all those people and no one thought it was wrong."

Tentatively, Kiros clasped a hand to the man's shoulder. "Laguna, none of this is your fault."

"Not my fault?" Laguna began to laugh. "For fuck's sake Kiros, I'm the one who left him behind. I can't believe this. For something like that to happen… how can you be certain? Squall seems okay."

"I'm certain Laguna," Kiros said firmly.

"But how do you really know? What if that doctor was lying? Squall never said anything about it, and he doesn't seem hurt. He's not hurt, he's fine."

"Laguna," Kiros said calmly, "There were pictures, and it explains the holes in the boy's record."

"He's not just some boy, stop calling him a boy. He's Squall, my son. Stop talking about him like that."

"Like what?"

"Like…" Laguna stood up abruptly, tossing his hands in the air. "I don't know, just stop talking about him like he's some criminal. He's the victim here."

Pacing once more, Laguna strode frantically, practically in circles as he roughly massaged his temple. "Fuck!" he shouted. "There were pictures," he gestured as if telling Kiros so hurry up and say something. "What pictures?"

"Just pictures of some of the injuries," the advisor said nondescriptly.

"But, he's normal!" Laguna affirmed. "Something like that should have put him in a psyche ward. He wouldn't be carrying on as if it never happened."

"He seems to have been compliant with it all. As bad as it seems, he never asked for help or complained."

"Are you saying he wanted it?" Laguna shot incredulously, a fury in his tone that warned Kiros not to answer yes.

"No, just that you can't let your feelings get in the way here. Consider that he never tried to get away."

"He was nine years old, where exactly would he run? The only people he knew were the ones who were doing everything to him."

"He's not a nine year old boy now, he's almost eighteen and a trained fighter. He's been in training for the past four years. Somewhere along the line, he was capable of escaping."

"I'm not debating this with you Kiros, I'm going back. I need to see him, I need to talk to him." Suddenly realizing that the first thing he should have done was to rush to Squall's side, Laguna stalked towards the door.

Standing to follow, Kiros called after his friend, "Are you sure he should know that you've learned everything about him?"

"I need to be with him right now Kiros. I'm not sending him back there."

"Why didn't he tell you himself? He doesn't want you to know."

"Well it's too late now, isn't it?" Laguna said as he wrenched the door open and stalked away.

TBC…

A/N Okay, a pretty dark chapter. The next one will be more lighthearted. Oh, and once again please ignore any errors. I'll fix it up when my eyes are fresher. I'm debating whether or not to lighten it up, maybe leave out the part about Squall's "trip" to Dollet, since it's not really necessary.


	11. Chapter 11

Living with Heart

Act XI

Squall relaxed against the soft couch. He hadn't moved since Laguna's departure, almost as if the President might not find him so he didn't stay in place like some well-behaved pet. He felt pathetic, as if he were truly some animal pining for its master.

Yet, he could not bring himself to leave the couch. He sat and contemplated his options, all the while crossing his fingers and hoping Laguna returned without the intention to toss his ass to the streets.

If he were asked to leave, he could always choose to not go back to Balamb. But, where would he go and what would he do? His face was easily recognizable, and there stood a good chance that Cid wouldn't let him go. He was a huge source of money and fame for Garden, something the Headmaster needed with Norg gone.

As much as Squall disliked the manner of work he did, he loved to fight. He'd been complacent for a number of reasons, many of which he didn't understand. He'd become used to seducing and exploiting key figures, as well as the more direct approach of simply sleeping with them for money. It wasn't necessarily easy to do, but he was good at it, just like he was good at wielding his gunblade. He'd always seen it as his job as SeeD, or rather training as a cadet.

If he wasn't SeeD, then what was he? All his life, be it the years of dealing with Norg's repugnant pleasures or his actual classes of combat training, he'd worked toward becoming SeeD. Granted, he'd always assumed his life would turn out differently, but he'd still earned his place among the elite mercenaries ranks. If he wasn't SeeD, then what was he?

The war was probably the best time of his entire life. Horrible as it might make him for feeling that way, it was true. The threat Ultimecia presented had run Cid off and left him in charge of his own life. He'd been given the opportunity to pick his blade up and fight to his heart's content.

Squall recalled how Quistis and the others had chastised him for going off on his own when they were too tired to fight any more. It was as if he'd been a child who discovered the joys of climbing trees. Each tall tree with its base branches out of arms reach was a challenge he wanted to overcome, knowing that each time he slew a monster he was becoming stronger and climbing higher.

And then the war ended. It had been as if the top branch he'd stood upon had snapped, sending him to the ground once more with the pain of knowing what the view was like from above the thick canopy. It wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't known what it truly meant to be a fighter and how good it felt to slash Lionheart with such power and precision that only came with toiling months of practice.

Seifer was right, even if he longed to be a regular SeeD, his life at Garden would be no different than if he left. He'd always harbored hope for change, but it wasn't clear that it was never going to come until recently.

If Laguna turned him away, he couldn't blame the man. But, where would he go? The money he'd earned as Commander had been a ridiculous amount. No mercenary could spend such an exorbitant amount of gil. He had a percentage of his salary directed into his own account while recycling the rest back into Garden. He certainly hadn't expected to be needing the money he'd set aside, but thought it might be useful if Garden ever hit any rough spots, or perhaps for Trabia or the orphanage.

He had the financial means to start a new life, but did he have the ability to do so? What would he do? He was almost seventeen, not an adult yet by Balamb's law. Being a Balamb citizen meant that Cid was his legal guardian for the next several weeks. He might be able to keep off the Headmaster's radar for that time. He knew how to move about without being noticed and he could survive on next to nothing outside of residential areas.

Perhaps he should pack his bags now, in case Laguna demanded he leave instantly.

Squall shook his head, realizing that his train of thought was based on the assumptions that the longhaired President was going to reject him. Hadn't the older man confessed feelings of love for him? Given the gravity of their relationship, it surely meant something greater than past misdoings.

Why the hell did he feel so much for the blundering klutz? The man's touch made him shiver in pleasure, never disgust. Those greenish eyes caused his heart to race, raking his form with both lust and love. The man who'd initially wanted nothing but the opportunity to be around him, took greater measures to make him happy than anyone had ever done before.

There was so much that was similar about his experience with Laguna that was like that of previous instances with men who'd fallen in love with his body. Yet, it was entirely different. It was such an intense and new experience that he'd become immediately attached to it. He was so endeared and fond of the older man that he'd chosen not to forget about it, even though that meant remembering everything else.

In Ellone's dreams, he'd truly felt loathing for Laguna Loire. Every aspect about the native Galbadian had annoyed him. The man's nervous and anxious attitude around women, the way he took his friends for granted, his inability to read a map properly. Perhaps the most annoying quality had been the President's dream of becoming a reporter and traveling the world.

To Squall, it had been shocking. Laguna had been a Galbadian soldier. So, to then learn that this man had dreams other than to be a mercenary had felt like a slap in the face. He had no dreams but the life he was already leading, no hopes but to aspire to the rank of SeeD, which he'd already accomplished at that point.

Maybe it was misguided jealousy he'd felt. Perhaps he'd been envious of the raven haired soldier's ability to be so open and caring while also being a decent fighter, and even more envious for the man's ability to continue climbing each branch without ever worrying about what would happen if a branch broke.

Getting to know the President more had soothed his angry feelings. He'd learned that Laguna Loire was so much more than what he'd seen in his dreams. And that caring warmth was irresistible, consequences damned.

For the briefest of moments, Squall had allowed himself to believe that everything was going to work out fine. When he'd fallen asleep with the older man's warm body beside him, he'd felt confident in his choice to do what he wanted for once, to stay in Esthar with his father.

But, like a moth to a flame, he was drawn into something he couldn't resist but that would inevitably burn him. He was truly a weak man to become addicted to every gentle caress.

It was too much to hope for. His years of building icy walls failed him. The number one rule was to not become emotionally involved, and he'd broken it on several levels. Aside from caring about hurting Laguna, he'd become selfish and began to care about his own feelings and wants. The second rule was to forget about personal desires and focus on his partner.

Somewhere deep inside was the Ice Prince he knew so well, the part of him that simply disregarded emotion and feeling. He wished he could find that part of himself again.

Slowly, as the minutes added up, Squall sank to his side. Lying on the cushions, bare of shirt, he curled up and continued to think. His mind was left to brood over every aspect of his current situation, wondering if he'd been a fool to leave himself so open to this man he'd come to hold affection for, or if it was simply human nature to keep striving for some token of love.

The sudden opening of the door and silence-shattering slam of it shutting drove panic into Squall. His heart beat both from being startled and from the pending judgment about to be bestowed.

Slowly uncurling, he sat up to better assess the situation.

"Squall," Laguna called from within the bedroom.

Blinking in momentary confusion, the young man realized the President had walked right past him without seeing him on the couch.

"Squall!" Laguna all but shouted at the top of his lungs, desperate for an answer and the relief that the boy was nearby. He'd run from the office, getting lost twice until his guard had kindly realized his predicament and lead the way.

"Out here," Squall said just loud enough for the older man to hear. While he heard desperation in the raven-haired man's voice, it was likely the desperation to have him refute what Kiros had said.

"Squall," the longhaired President whispered heavily as his form came into view, now standing just outside the open bedroom door. Looking worse for the wear, the wrinkled shirt and pants were now accompanied by a blanched expression of worry. The fine lines of age seemed more pronounced.

Though frantic to find the boy, Laguna just stood as if frozen. Staring into slightly guarded stormy blue eyes, the President was reminded that Squall never seemed to betray any aspect of the horrible past Kiros had told him about.

Where was the shying fear of his touch, the touch of yet another man come to use him? Where was the sneer of disgust while they had sex? Was Squall that good of an actor, or did he dare believe that Squall truly loved him unlike the other bastards who'd wanted the former Commander for purely physical reasons?

Swallowing down rising panic, Squall mastered himself and kept his impassive expression in place. If Laguna now hated him, he wouldn't appear hurt or worried about the total chaos his life would be thrown into.

As much as Squall didn't want to tip his hand and show his cards on the off chance that Kiros hadn't said anything, the silence was too much for even him to take. He needed to know which way this was going to go. "Kiros told you?" he questioned evenly, almost a statement.

Laguna didn't reply. Standing stock still, he stared intently, as if trying to see past events in those deep eyes that seemed more guarded than moments ago. What he wouldn't give to read the boy's thoughts.

Suddenly realizing that Squall didn't appear the least bit distraught over any of it, Laguna became overwhelmed by his newfound knowledge. He'd been the one to condemn his son to such a fate, and then he gone and slept with the boy just like all those other men.

Despite everything he'd done to Squall, the brunet had come to love him, or at least begin to care for him. He'd been nothing but a wretch and a bastard, yet Squall accepted him as if none of it meant anything.

A thought suddenly occurred to the President. Eyes widening, he stared in shock. "That's what you wanted to forget, isn't it? You wanted to forget about everything that had been done to you?"

Squall didn't reply. He was wary that his answer might hurt Laguna either way, if he lied or told the truth.

Jaw clenching tightly, the muscle flexing, the President fought burning tears. Swallowing thickly, feeling his grip on calmness and rationality slipping, he reiterated, "You were okay when you couldn't remember every fucking bastard that touched you… but you chose not to forget so that you could be with me!"

Squall's eyes widened at the accusatory tone the older man used. Was Laguna yelling at him or berating himself? Searching those expressive hazel green eyes and seeing the anguish within, Squall assured, "I chose what was most important."

"Gods," Laguna whispered in pain. A sob suddenly shook his frame, escaping through barely parted lips. Was there no limit to the ways he'd crossed his own son? Leaving the boy behind in the first of many acts of abandonment and carrying on with his merry lifestyle whilst the pale beauty lead of life of deceit and whoring… such deeds could never be forgiven.

"Laguna?" Squall said in concern. Moving over the back of the couch, he stalked closer.

It was obvious that the older man wasn't hurt, at least not that the brunet could see. The thought of a stroke or heart attack was dismissed given that Laguna was only forty-seven and in excellent health.

Grasping the man's shaking shoulders, Squall retracted his hands on the chance that Laguna was crying over what he'd done.

Taking a step back, he crouched and regarded the President in silent question.

"I'm so sorry," Laguna managed.

Frowning, Squall considered the older man's meaning and found the apology confusing. He was on the verge of asking the man why, but felt it was too obvious to bother with. He didn't like to waste time by asking pointless questions. "Stop crying," he said in light reprimand, feeling thrown by the presence of tears.

Choking up, Laguna fought the urge to continue sobbing. "I'm sorry," he said again. A garbled mix of this phrase being stumbled over while his chest convulsed, the meaning impressed over and over like some mantra.

"It's fine," Squall assured. "It's not your fault, nothing is your fault." Squall couldn't be certain exactly what Laguna was so upset over, or at least how much the man knew.

Leaning against the wall beside the doorframe, Laguna reached out and grabbed the crouching boy. Pulling the smaller form into his arms, he continued to sob while desperately hugging his son. "Hyne forgive me, I'm so sorry for everything you've been through. I love you so much. I'd never hurt you like that. If I'd known… if I'd only known."

Awkwardly, Squall remained lax in Laguna's hold. Closing his eyes, he sighed in relief. It was safe to assume that Laguna wasn't angry with him or considering breaking all ties with him.

Laguna had less control on his emotions than anyone else Squall had ever known, including Rinoa. The kindhearted President expressed everything openly, apparently unable to use the floodgate mechanism that prevented such tearful moments as this.

Under different circumstances, it was a quality that Squall found appealing. He never had to guess what the man was thinking or worry about secrets and lies.

After several minutes, when Squall realized Laguna had no intention of letting him go, he squirmed to find a more comfortable position. Leaning flush against the man's chest, Squall shifted to rest on his bottom rather than folded legs. With the President's legs on either side of him, bent at the knee, he remained complacent for a while longer.

Wearing himself out quickly, Laguna calmed down and settled for habitual petting and stroking. His hands kept the younger man's head pressed closely while running gentle fingers through silky chestnut hair. His other arm wrapped around the slim torso and soothed up and down while rubbing a bare back.

Though the touches grew redundant, Laguna needed the contact for the assurance that it was real and that he had the boy in his arms.

"What did Kiros tell you?" Squall murmured at length, when the minutes felt like hours and he could no longer feel his ass and his left foot tingled after falling asleep.

"Shh," Laguna hushed in reply, craning his neck down to press a firm kiss to the boy's head.

"Laguna," Squall spoke more firmly, defying his order for silence with a certain irony of trying to speak and instigate a conversation. "What did Kiros tell you?" he pressed again.

"I'm so sorry," the raven-haired man whispered again, once more resuming gentle rocking motion that had died down some time ago.

Frowning in disapproval, Squall bristled to move away. The firm hold was restricting, seeming to tighten at his attempts. "I don't need your pity. Stop saying you're sorry for something that had nothing to do with you," the brunet bit out tersely, having little patience for a lover that acted like a baby.

Blinking several times, sharp awareness seemed to return to the older man's eyes. "I left you with the Kramers, in the care of those people. I could have come and taken you away at any time, or even checked up on you. I lived as if you didn't exist, while you existed in misery."

Growing angry, Squall struggled to break away. Eventually gaining the distance he was trying to place between them, he glared harshly at his father.

"My life is my own, not some accident or fault of another. It has nothing to do with you, so don't shed tears over it and don't apologize for it."

"Squall," Laguna breathed out the name as he raised a hand to cup a pale cheek.

Squall knocked the older man's hand away. He'd rather be thrown out in disgust and anger rather than carry on while Laguna felt pity for him. Backing away further, he continued to glare coldly at the President. "Stop it," he ordered.

Brows drawn in anguish, Laguna regarded the brunet with a mixture of sorrow and worry.

"Stop looking at me like that," Squall half shouted.

"Like what?" Laguna questioned in alarm, his worry and sorrow now joined with the fear of running Squall off.

"Like you pity me. I had a choice in it, so stop looking at me like some victim."

In saddened disbelief, Laguna questioned, "You were so young, what choice could you…" he trailed off as another sob over took him.

"No one ever held a gun to my head. I was here with you. Tell me if it seemed like I was being forced to have sex with you."

Hazel green eyes widened in disbelief. Shaking his head, raven strands tossed about in a long curtain. "No, you were just following orders at first."

"Cid never ordered me to sleep with you," Squall assured. "That just happened and I took advantage of it. I was trained to do it, just like fighting. I follow orders and do what is necessary to get the job done, that's what SeeD do."

In that moment, Laguna found yet another reason to curse the existence of sorceresses. SeeD were mercenaries trained for the purposes of keeping out of hand sorceresses under control. Squall was a part of an organization that would never have existed if evil creatures like Adel hadn't lived.

Pout lips formed a thin line as Squall frowned. As much as he had come to enjoy Laguna's company, every touch and soft kiss, he would not stay with the man if he were to be pitied.

"I love you," the longhaired man spoke solemnly. "You know I'm not like them, that I'd never do anything I thought you didn't want."

With a small nod, Squall accepted those words as truth. "How things have turned out," the brunet began, wondering if there was room for belief after so many indistinguishable lies, "it's real… it isn't following orders when I stay with you."

Laguna gave a soft laugh at the idea that Squall could still be following orders. The President understood the boy's situation and that staying with him was in no way beneficial to anyone. The only benefit was that they could stay together as lovers, but even that would prove problematic beyond the grief would receive over Squall leaving Balamb Garden.

Standing straight, Squall stretch a bit. "I'm tired," he said evenly while gazing down expectantly.

Concern filled Laguna. "Squall, perhaps we shouldn't…" the President trailed off for lack of proper wording. It suddenly seemed wrong to touch Squall in any way that implied something sexual. It wasn't that he didn't find the boy as desirable as before, but knowing what he now knew, he wasn't sure he could be intimate so soon.

Eyes averted, Squall stared at the rug in a downtrodden manner, trepidation filling him. Now that Laguna knew just how used he was, he wasn't so appealing. He couldn't exactly blame the man, but he'd hoped it wouldn't have been an issue. "It's fine," Squall said quietly. Moving around Laguna's sitting form, he made to walk into the bedroom. Before he past through the doorway, he mumbled, "I wouldn't want to touch me either."

There was a big difference between the touch that came from consoling and the touch that came from a lover. Squall wondered if Laguna might just need some time to digest everything.

It took Laguna several moments to comprehend the boy's words. A heavy wave of guilt washed over him. That hadn't been what he meant at all.

Scrambling to his feet, the raven-haired man rushed to follow the brunet. Inside the bedroom, he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around the younger man.

"That isn't what I meant. I could never feel that way about you," the President impressed firmly, his voice flowing with unexpressed emotion. His guilty pleasure at the moment was the feel of Squall's back against his chest. He was truly beginning to believe that their shared DNA meant their bodies fit together perfectly.

Shaking away his wayward thoughts, Laguna spoke further, "I was afraid it'd be too much for you. I won't do anything you don't want me to, never for any reason. If you want to sleep alone, I'll leave. If you never want me to touch you again, I won't. Just say the word and I'll never look at you again."

Taken aback for a moment, Squall considered Laguna's meaning. Shaking his head to refute the man's profession, he almost laughed at the extent of kindness this President continually showed. Could one person harbor so much good will?

Before replying, Squall considered the depth of meaning. He'd already experienced for himself just how true Laguna's words were. The older man managed to curb every action to his liking even in midst of sex, which was something only firm resolution could allow for.

"I want you to leave my past alone. It was only a few weeks ago, but it's in the past now. I want you to be my lover, not my caretaker. Don't fret like you're my father."

Reluctantly, Laguna complied. "Done," he said at length, still feeling as though he had unspent grief for what the boy had been through.

Squall pulled away, released from the hold as soon as the older man realized it was his wish. Turning to meet eyes with Laguna, he warned, "I can be your son or your lover, but I can't be both."

Laguna stared in thought, recalling how similar a warning Kiros had given. "And I can be your father or your lover, which would you rather?"

Stormy blue eyes widened. Searching the man's face before him, Squall was further shocked to conclude that Laguna was being serious. It was like the assurance that he could get away from it all and never submit to anyone's touch again. But, what the older man didn't seem to understand was that he'd stopped wishing for a father long ago. There was also the small little factor of Laguna's touch being more than welcome.

"I don't need a parent," the brunet answered after consideration. This would be the last conflict over their relation. After this, there would be no more consideration of the fact.

Laguna bit his bottom lip, as if the boy's habit were contagious. At the moment, he wanted nothing more than to kiss Squall, but he refrained from doing so. "I would love you no matter what."

Squall didn't respond. He was waiting for Laguna's answer to his still standing question.

"I want a lover," the President whispered. He'd lived for so many years without anyone in his life that he could consider as dear to him as Squall had become. He never realized how much was missing until recently.

With that answer, Squall leaned in and pressed his lips against Laguna's. Working their lips together, he had the feeling that the immediate response was more instinctual than conscious. However, after a brief delay the older man returned his action ten fold, heatedly pulling him closer and meshing their lips together.

With a lick of his tongue, Squall sought to deepen it, finding that physical pleasure was once more a great remedy for the heavy weight of recent events.

Laguna met the seeking tongue with his own wet appendage. As Squall explored his mouth, his heart raced in excitement. His hands stroked the smooth flesh along slim hips, almost massaging as he kept his hold to press firmly against that lithe body. It was difficult to comply with the boy's wishes for leaving matters alone, but he found his mind swept clean as he was consumed in the heated exchange.

The pair stumbled towards the bed, making it there too soon and falling over on top of it.

Breaking away after a moment, Laguna regarded swirling grey-blue eyes. As furtive hands began to work on unbuttoning his shirt, his mind recalled his initial hesitancy to continue his involvement with Squall. "Tonight, can we just sleep together?" he questioned, hoping he wasn't taken the wrong way.

Squall stared in question, not quite realizing what the man meant until he took the meaning literal. Stilling his hands, he regarded Laguna's gentle features for a moment. He could see the desire in hazel green eyes, knowing the man was certainly ready to screw him if he asked, but there was also a deep concern. "You know I want it," he said.

"I know," Laguna assured. Hands cupping the boy's pretty face, he stroked his thumbs across pale cheeks while leaning down and pressing his lips against Squall's. "Just for tonight. I want to hold you, but not out of pity… I love you so much, I just want to hold you."

Squall was helpless at the moment. He'd have agreed to do anything, finding the man's doting nature too appealing to refuse. He would become terribly spoiled if he kept it up, but somehow he didn't care.

Nodding, Squall conceded to Laguna's request.

Once again under the covers and settled in for bed, assured that there would be no such disturbances as a concerned friend dragging Squall away, Laguna held the brunet close. When his lips trailed over every inch of the boy within reach, it became difficult to not initiate passionate exchanges.

As Laguna shifted to rest more atop Squall than beside, delving his tongue into that wet mouth, he realized how difficult just sleeping was. It was near impossible to keep his hands from roaming, and even more so not to kiss that plush mouth. However, as they settled in once more and the brunet gave a soft yawn, he restrained himself.

Drifting for a long time, perhaps an hour, Laguna found he was tired but sleep would not come. Squall had fallen under already, and that was what caused his wakeful predicament. He couldn't tear his eyes from the boy's sleeping face, as if it were his duty to guard Squall's slumber.

It was well into the next day, four in the morning, but Laguna never shut his eyes longer than a couple minutes. His mind thought about what Kiros had told him and about what Squall had told him. Together, it was like being told the world was ending soon but to not worry about.

However, Laguna realized that it would have been far worse to carry on without knowing the truth. If months went by without his knowing, it would have been worse. He was determined to care for Squall and never let anything bad happen again.

The solemn and quiet boy that was so beautiful in his arms, safely sleeping where he could watch and make sure nothing happened. Later, he'd take Squall for another ride. They'd go farther and spend as much time as the brunet wanted out there. He should have already gone again, knowing that the boy had quite enjoyed it the first time.

And, he'd deal with Cid. Squall would never go back to Balamb. The former Commander was going to stay with him, no matter what.

TBC…

A/N As always, please ignore minor errors and typos, I'll get them later. Thanks for all the awesome reviews, keep 'em coming!


	12. Chapter 12

Living with Heart

Act XII

With Seifer's return to Balamb Garden as a newly reinstated knight, chaos broke out. General Caraway was as equally furious as Headmaster Kramer.

It didn't matter that Rinoa pleaded Seifer and Squall's case, explaining that it just wasn't working out between her and the former Commander. It was all about politics.

Squall Leonhart was the preferred suitor because he was obedient and the worlds' number one sweetheart despite a rather socially inept and icy nature. Squall was the son of the President of Esthar. Rumors of a trade agreement between Esthar and Timber were still just rumors, which meant it was now a dash to secure favor with President Loire.

Cid had at least given Squall the benefit of the doubt, holding off on his angry tirade until after he contacted the boy. However, when his attempts to reach the young SeeD were unsuccessful, his anger began to boil over.

This was the first time Squall had shown disobedience. At first it had just been not checking in daily or sending the finished compilation of strategic reports. Then the General's daughter returned with fawning adoration for Seifer Almasy as her new knight. Now, he had no idea where the relationship between father and son stood and he couldn't get a hold of the young man.

Balamb Garden's Headmaster sat behind his desk, staring off into the cloudy grey sky outside.

"Headmaster Kramer," came the familiar voice of his secretary over the intercom speaker on his desk.

Swiveling around in his chair, Cid Kramer reached out and pressed the small red button to respond. "Yes," he spoke gruffly.

The secretary's voice spoke with a hesitancy that set the Headmaster on edge. "There is an urgent notice here from Esthar, I thought you should know."

"Bring it in," Cid demanded. He was filled with anxiousness, not certain if it would be good of bad.

Darkening slate blue eyes stared for a long moment at the official courier dressed in long white robes.

The messenger saluted to the Headmaster, youthful features impassive the entire time. Sweeping further into the room, the young woman stood in place before the Headmaster's desk. Rigidly, she held out the package.

Jaw clenched, Cid stood and accepted the thick manila envelope. He almost quirked a brow at the manner of traditional mail, wondering if Esthar didn't have a better way with such advanced technology.

"Sir," the courier said with a salute. "I'm to oversee the signing of the contents of that envelope. I have no prior knowledge of its contents. I'm ordered to wait as long as it takes."

Affronted, Cid stared sternly for several moments. There were scarce papers on his desk, just a few reports off to the side that had been taken care of in less than an hour when he'd first arrived at the office that morning.

Reaching for a letter opener, he smoothly sheered the top open and peered inside. His frown deepened upon seeing the thick stack of papers within. Dumping the contents onto his desk, a small disk tumbled out as well.

Not bothering to read anything, he glanced at the young woman standing before his desk. "What is this?" he questioned with a gesturing hand to the pile of papers and small cd.

"Sir." The messenger bristled in the thick white robes. "I am not privy to the subject matter of any deliveries. If you do not have a Cerebrum X40, then I have a compact signature device on hand that will serve to read the disk and record your signature."

"What in Hyne's name are you on about?" Cid grumbled, angrily grabbing the papers and glancing at them.

His eyes scanned the stream of numbers centered on the first page, not unlike the reports filed for SeeD contracts. The only difference was the Estharian insignia in the top right corner, an intricate pattern of foreign symbols held within a crescent that was printed downward as if in a frown.

Flipping to the next page, his eyes scanned the text. Features drawing into slight alarm, his eyes narrowed and started to reread from the top with greater focus. Dropping the report, he fumbled to call his secretary in, his finger missing the intercom button the first try.

"Get me Commander Yashime and instructor Trepe, have them here immediately."

As Xu and Quistis arrived together, conveniently having been together on their lunch hour, Cid was already pacing his office with the pack of papers clenched in his hands.

"Cid," Xu addressed informally, having known the man for many years now. "Is something the matter?"

Quistis saluted. "Headmaster," she greeted, always one for formalities regardless of knowing the older man just as intimately as Xu.

The tall blonde instructor stepped further in, the raven haired Commander following beside her.

"Yes," Cid said firmly. "We have a problem. Quistis, I want you to go to Esthar this very night. I want Squall back here before I eat my breakfast tomorrow."

"Yes sir," Quistis agreed right away. "May I ask what this is about?"

"President Loire is filing for custody of Squall," Cid said solemnly.

Adjusting her wire rimmed glasses, Quistis glanced at the messenger seated calmly in the single wooden chair before the Headmaster's desk. The white robes were indicative of an official courier. The crescent moon emblem at the left breast of the garb meant this young woman was one of President Loire's personal messengers.

Estharian tradition mandated the use of hand delivered documents for all official matters.

Tucking a tendril of long blonde hair behind her ear, Quistis tore her gaze from the brown haired messenger girl and regarded the Headmaster with confused concern. The last time she'd pried into Squall's affairs in Esthar, Cid had scolded her. Now, she found she had a legitimate excuse to ask questions about her former Commander.

"Is it a problem? Laguna Loire is Squall's father, is he not?" Quistis asked calmly, confused at what was so dire that required her immediate deployment to retrieve Squall.

"I am Squall's legal guardian until he is eighteen," Cid snapped. Reining his emotions in, he stood straighter and set the document in hand down. Tugging on the hem of his vest, he straightened that as well. "Xu, I need your eyes. You're trained in legal matters. I need you to read this and tell me exactly what is being asked. Then, I want you to find someway to negate it."

At the curious gazes from both Commander and Head Instructor, Cid cleared his throat. "I will not explain myself. I am to remain Squall's guardian, is that clear?"

Uncertainly, both women gave curt nods.

"Quistis, I want him back here by tomorrow, no excuses."

Hiding her frown, Quistis nodded in compliance. Saluting one final time, she turned on foot and stalked away. She'd enlist Selphie's help to get her to Esthar as soon as possible, the use of Ragnarok being imperative to save time.

* * *

Morning in Esthar was always pleasant for Laguna when it involved waking to have the sleeping brunet in his arms. As his breathing changed, his body awoke and temperature increased.

Finding it a little too warm under the thick covers of his large bed, he remained as he was to further enjoy the feel of Squall's warm body against his own.

Lazily, hazel green eyes blinked and the cogs began to spin within the President's head. Recalling what day it was, he groaned in frustration.

He needed to return to the palace for the day, unable to continue his sabbatical agenda that he'd been on for the past few weeks. Despite having the help of Kiros and Ward, he usually worked at least ten or twelve hours a day. Being President was an around the clock job that he took very seriously, but had taken leave from to be with his son.

Considering he wasn't going to be around forever, it was imperative to establish a government that could run smoothly without him, which he was proud to find was the case during his time away.

As the smaller young man stirred in his arms, Laguna's focus remained solely on Squall. Running his hand through mussed chestnut strands of hair, he leaned close to gently press his lips against the boy's temple.

"Morning," he whispered softly, not wanting to wake Squall any sooner than that lithe body wanted to be woken.

Arching languidly, Squall gave a faint smile, relishing the warmth and comfort that surrounded him. Humming quietly in agreement, Squall let his actions speak for himself.

Turning slightly, the brunet furled closer and tucked his head beneath the older man's chin. Nuzzling the man's collar, he sighed as his body wallowed in the feel of their bare skin touching. He was torn between wanting to flop back down and fall asleep again and getting up.

Chuckling lightly, Laguna continued to stroke the other's soft hair. "There is something I should tell you," he said, slightly wary of the reaction he'd receive.

"I know," Squall mumbled. Returning the intimate gesture, he grasp at long raven strands of hair, finding the absent curling of hair around his fingers was almost hypnotic.

"You know?" Laguna questioned in surprised awe, seeming to believe that the young man could know despite his secrecy on the matter.

"It's about what you and Kiros discussed yesterday. I imagine it has to do with Cid also."

Finding the play of hair a little boring, Squall trailed his fingers along the older man's chest, grazing a nipple as he traced odd patterns. It had been two days since Laguna had last done anything with him, requesting the previous night to simply lie together once again.

Though Squall wasn't necessarily overly sexually charged, he was seventeen and finding himself admittedly in love. Those factors added together meant that his already present attraction to the older man raged when they were in the same room. He wanted touch and kiss, to grope and fondle every chance they had.

Squall was beginning to wonder if Laguna was turned off by him now that his past was made common knowledge.

The night before, he'd assured with slight embarrassment that he was clean of any sort of diseases carried through sexual encounters, which the President had become terribly flustered over and pleaded that he understand it wasn't a matter of wanting him sexually.

However, the assurance that Laguna still wanted to have sex with him meant that he was even more impatient for it. He would become like a cat in heat if Laguna didn't fuck him hard that very morning.

Initiating the first move, Squall pressed his lips against the raven-haired man's neck, licking and sucking at the same spot until he'd made a sufficiently noticeable mark.

Gulping, Laguna fought the rising heat in his loins. He felt the consuming urge to ravish the younger man, but he resisted. He felt an uncertainty about it, waiting for a few days to pass without sex to prove that he was not like the others Squall had been with.

Finding that soft lips were on a mission to arouse him, the President blurted out, "I'm going to adopt you."

This brought a halt to Squall's laving tongue, having just begun to tease a hardening nipple. Stormy blue eyes looked up, angled as his head stayed in place. "What?" the brunet questioned.

"So that Cid Kramer can't make you return," Laguna assured, pleading his case as though becoming Squall's guardian by law was the worst offense in the world.

Squall didn't respond. It was a logical step, one that he should have seen coming. However, he felt uncertainty surrounding the matter. "Will this change us?" the brunet asked softly, wondering whether Laguna would suddenly decide fatherhood was better than forbidden love.

"No," Laguna asserted, finding that he assured himself as well. Drawing Squall up to lay beside him once more, he kissed pout lips gently.

Pushing for more, Squall took over when Laguna seemed inclined to keeping the kiss light. Firmly pressing their lips together, he shifted to lean over the older man. Nipping at a bottom lip, he raked his short nails across the man's chest, tweaking that pert nub he'd only begun to tease. At the resultant gasp, he slipped his tongue into the President's mouth.

Tasting only for moment, Squall drew back. Throwing a leg over Laguna's thigh, he straddled the man before leaning down to continue.

Laguna could tell that Squall was being rather insistent, ignoring his reluctant signals and going straight for the carnal pleasures anyway.

"I'm an old man," Laguna tried in excuse, hands gently fondling the boy as he tried to subtly put space between them. "I need coffee before anything else."

"You don't," Squall refuted, pointedly rubbing his hardening bulge against the President's groin. The exulting groan was proof of his argument. Continuing to gyrate downward, he felt reassured by how fast the man's length hardened for him.

Laguna considered the consequence that would more than likely follow his actions to become Squall's legal guardian. Cid would fight it, the chance of everything falling apart too great a risk. Someone from Garden would be sent and word would leak, which meant that calculating eyes would be turned on them.

Sex with his son would be out of the question, something Kiros had alluded to the previous day, but that he hadn't really given serious consideration.

"Gods," Laguna hissed as the boy seemed filled with sexual energy even after just waking up. He wasn't tired or not in the mood, just wondering if there would come a point when his age did effect his appetite.

Squall rocked gently, not wanting to create too much stimulation all at once. He left the President's mouth to explore lower reaches. Nipping and kissing along the man's stubble ridden jaw, he trailed along an exposed neck and chest.

Closing his eyes, Laguna relished the feel of unabashed hands roaming his body and those soft lips daring to touch every bit of his flesh. Realizing he couldn't last any longer, he impressed, "You don't have to do this."

It took a moment for the full meaning behind Laguna's words to set in. When Squall finally absorbed it all, he wound his frantic actions down and sat up straight. Still straddling the older man, he stared for along moment into hazel green eyes.

While the erection the President sported indicated that his touch was very much wanted, Squall couldn't help but remember that any amount of fondling would eventually have an effect.

"If this isn't what you want, just say so," the brunet said, preferring blunt words with sharp edges to beating around the bush and procrastinating.

"No," Laguna whispered. "No, no." He reached out and ran his hands up and down bare arms, unable to not focus on the feel of hard muscles under soft skin while he was so utterly horny. "I love you, and I love this."

The slight embarrassed flush that came to the longhaired man's cheeks caused Squall to give a small smile. He stared at the handsome man, raven hair splayed on the pillow beneath. The President would forever be shy of being so open about the more sexual desires that coursed through every person.

Squall was by no means open with any of his emotions, but he treated every feeling equally. He was no more discrete about feeling unusually giddy as he was about having a raging hard on. However, Laguna seemed to express every emotion under the sun without hesitancy except for physical desire.

"You want to have sex with me," Squall said with more clarity, already feeling relieved from his momentary doubt.

"Hyne yes," Laguna said in a heavy sigh. If his arousal that tented his baggy flannel pajamas wasn't enough to poke the truth into the boy, then the mounting tension from his desperate restraint would be.

"Then why hold back?" the brunet followed up.

Hesitating for a few moments longer, Laguna found his weak hold failing. "Because I'm not like them. I care about you, with or without the sex."

Squall couldn't help but sigh, refraining from rolling his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. If that was what the man was worried about, then he could have settled this in the beginning before he'd spent two repeated nights of cuddling without fucking. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy being held, but good sex with someone he was both attracted to and had affection for was rare, which meant his body ached for it.

"Can we do this with the sex?" Leaning down, Squall kissed Laguna again. With prospect of sating rutting on the horizon, he gave a small taunt. "You might look young, but who knows how much longer we can do this."

Laguna blinked, not certain he'd heard right. Squall had made a joke, a funny one too. He wasn't sure if he should laugh or check for a fever. Soft chuckling escaped him before he could surmise an answer.

"Alright then," the President said, "But tell me it's different. Tell me, I'm different than them and that you feel differently. Tell me what we have is real, that you love me."

Squall stared solemnly into earnest greenish eyes. The older man was so insecure at times, but he could hardly lay blame. He was insecure about his own feelings, so who was he to expect the President to have complete confidence in him?

"I've never felt this way before," Squall whispered, easily complying with the man's request. "You annoyed me at first, but now I like all your clumsy moments and inability to keep anything hidden."

Bristling indignantly, Laguna tried to draw himself up straight, but found it didn't work while lying down.

"You're cute, and it pains me to admit it."

Grumbling, Laguna commented wryly, "You're a real charmer."

Squall shook his head lightly, not refuting the man's words, but gesturing that he had more to add. He never claimed to be good with words or capable of telling someone exactly what they wanted to hear while also speaking the truth. Laguna wanted to know how he felt, not hear some made up bullshit.

"I think I love you," the brunet said after a moment, honestly admitting that he wasn't sure he was that far along in the relationship. "I care about you and want to be with you. I've chosen to leave the only life I've ever known behind for you." Despite the fact that it was a life most would run away from, it was still a life that he hadn't easily let go of.

"But, you're happy?" Laguna pressed. Hearing all that Squall had done for him only made him more insecure, needing to know that it was good for both of them.

"…" Squall stared, having ended his moment of loquacious ranting and whispered sweet nothings already.

"Right," Laguna said as if chastising himself. "Of course you are."

"Can we have sex now?" the brunet asked seriously.

Laguna almost laughed, but found his predicament of having a throbbing erection suddenly too distracting. His time of slow paced brooding over the matter of what their relationship was based on was halted by the fact that they probably couldn't share so much as a kiss until after the brunet's birthday.

Whether it was their last free morning together or last day, Laguna's plans had changed. Still, he'd been stubborn in his resolve to prove it was more than just sex. However, it seemed Squall had never doubted the fact, making him feel slightly foolish for doing so.

Flipping their forms over, Laguna served the brunet a spoonful of his own bittersweet medicine. He was now in control and working to drive the boy into an aroused frenzy.

Squall was more than ready, his hands coated with the lubricant before his pants were discarded completely. Impatiently, he prepared himself, taking over for the sake of saving time.

Laguna would have jibed the boy for being so rushed, perhaps commenting on how horny teenagers were, but he his cock was already leaking precum so he wasn't one to talk.

As Squall scissored his opening, he purposely avoided all sensitive regions. Ready as he was, rubbing his prostate gland might have caused an early end to their fun.

Cutting the suddenly tedious preparation short, Squall turned over onto his knees. "I'm ready," he muttered.

"Squall," Laguna whispered huskily, his voice almost not working after remaining silent and avidly watching the whole time. Coating his length in the mild scented oil, he gave a firm stroke as his will power caved. Positioning his head at the boy's puckered entrance, he swallowed thickly before pointing out, "You're not ready. It's going to hurt."

"I like a little pain," Squall said in exasperation. Flattening his chest to the bed, he proffered himself for the President's taking.

Not exactly needing any coaxing in the first place, Laguna slowly slid into that gripping heat. Tossing his head back, he squeezed slim hips in an effort to keep himself from slamming in all the way.

"So tight," the older man ground out. Clenching his teeth, he attempted to think about the least arousing things so that he wouldn't come on the spot.

While Squall had taken a bit of the sheet into his mouth to keep from making any noise, be it a moan or a whimper of pain, he rocked back to push the man deeper. The pain was all the same, but he was after the pleasure and wanted it sooner than later.

Falling a few inches short of being buried to the hilt, Laguna rubbed gentle circles along a pale back. "Are you okay?" he questioned gently.

Squall gave a nod, unable to articulate an answer and make it sound convincing.

"I'm going to move," Laguna announced.

Slowly, Laguna pulled out and pushed back in. Eyes rolling back, his lids fluttered closed and a groan erupted from his throat. Repeating the action, he sounded a garbled mixture of Hyne and Squall's name, unable to determine who he should be crying out to at the moment.

Shallow thrusts eventually finished the stretching Squall had needed, though the brunet still felt more pain that usual. Shallow turned to deep, as the President drew out further and rocked back in.

Squall braced himself against the headboard as Laguna carried on with increasing passion, crashing into him with rough thrusts. Each violent push that buried the large cock deeper inside of him sent spikes of pleasure through his body. The pleasure soon spiked so frequently that he doubted a single thrust missed raking his prostate gland at just the right angle.

The mind numbing pleasure became too much as Squall cried out the President's name and ejaculated spurting ribbons of cum without any further stimulation other than the cock striking him from deep within.

Laguna soon followed, buried as deep as his cock could go, driven all the way into that searing heat. His member jerked in release before spilling warm seed inside that lithe body.

Falling limp, Laguna wound down from his quick end with a slow lethargy of euphoria. Pulling out, he ignored the mess they'd made and drew the young man's body to himself. Kissing a damp brow, he held the brunet until both their breathing had calmed.

"I'm sorry, I was rough," the President said.

Quietly Squall responded, already half asleep again, "That's what happens when you hold back."

Given the nature of Squall's comment, Laguna decided to put off informing the former Commander of the exact expectations they'd need to uphold for the next several weeks. He honestly didn't know if he could go more than a few days without screwing the brunet. Given the pent up nature of his need after two days, he feared he might fuck Squall raw after the boy finally turned eighteen.

TBC…

A/N Wow, I must have been in a writing mood or something. This one came out all at once after I wrote half of the chapter to another story. Goodness, my fingers are going to be stiff tomorrow. Anyway I hope you liked it, typos and over looked errors exempt. My eyes are tired, so as always just let it slide for now… if I saw the mistake, I'd know the proper way it should be. Please review, it makes me smile and giggle and write even faster.


	13. Chapter 13

Living with 

Heart Act XIII

The sun was setting on what felt like their last day together. Laguna had driven out with Squall to the middle of nowhere, which happened to be around ninety miles from the city's border.

It wasn't the clearest sunset, but the clouds played with the light in such a manner that more than made up for it. Orange and pink hues colored the horizon, and deeper reds appeared closer to the sun as it descended.

After they simply sat and watched the sky for several minutes, Squall couldn't help but ask, "Is this why you wanted to come out here?" While he had enjoyed the ride, it seemed like the President had some agenda behind their little trip.

Laguna glanced at Squall. Steely blue eyes reflected the fiery sky and chestnut hair was matted in damp tendrils from the helmet. In realization that his own hair must be in a similar state, he reached back and pulled it out from its bind. As long raven strands fell loose, a welcome breeze picked up.

The President had brought Squall out there to talk about the issues that would arise the next few weeks. The knowledge that they were indeed being watched via satellite kept him from touching Squall too intimately, which was a good thing when he felt that he might lose control if the brunet so much as smiled his way. The ride had settled them both down, creating a better mood to discuss everything.

"Until you turn eighteen, we can't do anything inappropriate," Laguna stated firmly, hating how the matter was not open for any debate.

Squall didn't show any outward sign of having heard the older man. Staring straight ahead, his eyes seemed unaffected by the bright rays of the sun. "I figured as much," he replied at length.

"Quistis Trepe will be waiting for you when we get back," Laguna said as if he were admitting some terrible lie he'd told.

"What?" Squall asked incredulously.

"She called shortly before we left. I wanted time with you alone. I'm sorry."

Squall shook his head. The stinging irony was that in Esthar he had no authority to demand to be informed of anything. Part of what he'd run away from was his lack of control that he'd tasted as Commander. Now, he'd run toward a haven that held the same problem.

"I should have told you, but I thought we should talk first."

"We can talk anywhere," the brunet pointed out.

Hurriedly, Laguna agreed, "I know."

"What did you want to talk about?" Squall questioned evenly, not quite managing to keep the icy tone out of his voice.

Brows drawing together in concern, Laguna reached out to the young man but retracted his hand. "It's going to kill me, not being able to touch you," the President declared with a forlorn sigh.

Focus turning for the first time, Squall's eyes glanced sidelong at the older man. "You can still touch me," he mumbled.

Smiling weakly, Laguna met Squall's gaze. "Kiros thinks anything is too risky. We can't seem out of place. With Quistis here, she'll know what is different about you better than anyone. If I remember correctly, she was the one who proclaimed to being an expert in 'Squall watching'."

Squall pinched the bridge of his nose with gloved fingers. "She said that to you?"

"Only when I asked if you were always so cold," the President said with a chuckle. "I'd say I'm the more knowledgeable one now." After a moment, hazel green eyes widened. "You've never… with her…"

Sadly, Squall shook his head. Of course it'd be likely that he slept with half of Garden, even if that wasn't nearly the case. "I've never slept with any of my friends," he stated, a slight hitch forming as Seifer's face danced in his head. However, he didn't outwardly admit to being friends with Seifer, though that was sort of a cheap cop out.

"What about Seifer?" Laguna blurted out in question, unable to contain the words as the alarming thought came to mind.

Squall winced visibly, failing to catch himself in time. "I didn't just go around having sex with everyone," he bit out tersely, not really taking offense but becoming a little defensive.

Laguna saw through it, momentarily sorry for asking, but then realizing that the brunet had dodged his question. "Is that a yes or a no?"

"…" Squall stared resolutely towards the dusk sky along the horizon.

"Squall," Laguna pressed. Uncaring for who was watching, he reached out and grabbed the boy's shoulder. The narrow shape wasn't quite so noticeable through the bomber jacket.

The former Commander snapped, "What?" Jerking away from the touch, he expressed his dislike for the subject they were on.

"Did you ever sleep with Seifer Almasy?" Laguna reiterated his question.

"Yes," Squall finally hissed. Crossing his arms, he forced himself not to look at the older man.

Laguna knew it shouldn't have mattered, but somehow it did. Angrily, he asked, "Why would Cid have you sleep with him?"

"What exactly do you want me to say?" the brunet hissed.

"I want the truth."

"The truth?" Squall remarked with a scoff. "The truth is that Seifer is the only person I slept with of my own free will." After a moment, he added, "Before I came here."

Laguna stared at the boy's profile for several long moments. Swallowing thickly, he pressed, "Did you sleep with him when he came here?"

Squall managed to hide his reaction, more prepared for it this time. "What does this have to do with us not being able to sleep together for the next three weeks?"

"Nothing, but I'm asking anyway. Please, Squall, tell me the truth."

Sighing, Squall continued to stare off. What was it with this man and truth? As if the world could be made perfect if everyone told the truth. "We fucked a bit while he was here, yeah."

Laguna stared in anguish, finding that the conformation of his suspicions hurt more than he could have anticipated. "Do you love him?" the President asked. As stormy blue eyes gazed at him, he quickly asserted, "Wait. Never mind, don't tell me."

Squall suddenly realized just how fragile Laguna was in some ways. What the President stood for as a leader was what made the man's true moral fiber. Truth and justice were important qualities for Laguna. However, sometimes receiving truth and justice meant there were consequences. He'd have to be careful with the older man, whose heart was worn vulnerably on a sleeve.

"Laguna," Squall said. "I've never been in love with anyone before you. Seifer was a fuck buddy, nothing more."

Hazel green eyes stared in a pleading manner, as if begging for the brunet's words to be true.

Squall stood up and slung a leather-clad leg over his bike. Slipping into place before Laguna could protest, he sat before the President as he straddled the man's bike backwards.

Wrapping his arms around the raven-haired man, Squall settled in without care for any human or mechanical eyes that might be watching. With his head pressed against the President's shoulder, he muttered, "I'll miss this."

Eyes closing as if in great pleasure, Laguna returned the hug fiercely. He wanted to kiss the boy so badly, but he knew he couldn't. Instead, he tightened his hold and twined his fingers in damps locks of soft chestnut hair.

"I'm the only one you love," Laguna murmured in self-assurance.

Squall parted his lips to respond, but his words came out quieter than wanted. "Because you're the only one to loves me."

Laguna wasn't sure he heard correctly, but in case he had, he squeezed tighter, threatening to cause the boy harm.

* * *

Quistis sat straight in a composed manner as she slowly passed the time waiting for Squall to show up. Her crystal blue eyes scanned the pages of each report she'd brought with herself on the chance that it would take longer than anticipated to retrieve the younger SeeD.

She'd been mildly surprised to hear that Squall was out riding with Laguna. She'd always been under the impression that motorcycles had been Seifer's passing fancy and that Squall had just been in it for the rivalry.

It was also rather odd that her former Commander could stand to be alone with the President for hours on end. Then again, with all the changes in Squall lately, perhaps this was another change. Maybe Squall was finally admitting the importance of family, be they blood related or not. It would certainly be a bigger step towards normalcy, at least normal for mercenary standards. Though, she highly doubted such a thing to be the case.

It was a beautiful day, though the lag in time threw her senses off. It should have been around ten o'clock at night back in Balamb, but the sun was just setting in Esthar. Given that she'd be up all night, this assignment wasn't exactly thrilling for her.

Heaving a sigh, she took her glasses off before running a hand over her tired eyes. Folding her hands on the round table, she glanced around the veranda and landscaped gardens nearby. The Loire Estate was beautiful in every respect. She had a nice view of the setting sun and sky, though oddly colored trees kept her from watching it descend all the way to the horizon.

"Is there anything else you'd care for Miss Trepe?" Harold Portier questioned with a bright smile. Stepping up beside her, he stood at the ready.

"No thank you," Quistis replied with a grateful smile to the oddly dressed butler. "The coffee was just what I needed." She cast a glance to the empty cup that she'd pushed aside to make room for her files.

"The master and young master will not be returning for several hours yet, perhaps a bit of dinner would be in order."

"Several hours?" the blonde SeeD questioned with dismay.

"They ride out quite far, and I'm afraid they were unaware of your arrival in time for their departure." Harold was fibbing of course, having given the message to the President himself. However, at the kind leader's exasperation and quick rush to go out to the junkyard, he assumed it was for lengthened time with his son.

"I see," Quistis said, her eyes scanning her papers in a calculating manner. "Then dinner would be nice. If I can help-"

The old man tutted in light reprimand. "You are a guest here Miss Trepe. We have a chef on hand, so it is no trouble at all. I'll have something brought to you. Do you have any requests?"

Falling silent, Quistis thought about it for a moment. She was not used to such treatment. Being in Esthar, she might as well try some of the country's foreign cuisine. The last time she'd been there, there wasn't much time to go about dining in fine restaurants.

"I'm interested in trying anything Estharian," she answered.

Harold smiled widely at this. "Wonderful," he declared. "I'll have something for you within the hour. Would you prefer to stay here? The sun will be setting soon, and nights in Esthar can become chilly."

"Out here is fine," she assured. She generally wasn't affected by the weather.

The motley pair arrived shortly after Quistis had finished her dinner, which felt more like a midnight snack to her given the time her body was on.

It was too dark to read, so she sat and gazed at the night sky, searching for the first stars.

"Quistis," Squall greeted, even though he knew his approach could be heard.

Standing immediately, the blonde instructor turned. Her gaze swept up and down Squall's usual manner of dress. She wondered how the brunet was able to be outside in the sun for so long in black leather pants and bomber jacket.

Striding forward, she met Squall before he came to her completely. Forgetting her sense of strict formal conduct, she gave the younger man a hug. "I don't think I've gone this long without at least seeing you walk by in the halls."

Awkwardly, Squall returned the gesture.

As Quistis pulled away, she glanced at the approaching President. It was odd to see the older man wearing jeans, but it would have been even more out of place if it had been leather pants. For riding a motorcycle, thick material that was comfortable was needed, which explained the informal dress of the President.

Laguna sidled up to Squall, having just spoken with Harold to arrange dinner for himself and the brunet.

"President Loire," Quistis greeted while extending her hand.

"Call me Laguna, please," the older man requested. Bypassing the handshake, he gave the young woman a firm hug. He welcomed the rule-abiding woman despite the precarious situation. She'd been given orders and didn't know about everything that had gone on, so he couldn't hold it against her.

"Laguna then," the blonde said with a small smile. She'd half expected such a warm greeting from the older man, knowing his tendency to go around hugging members of parliament even during formal meetings.

Lying wasn't exactly Laguna's forte, which made it extremely difficult for him to speak as if he didn't know why the woman was there.

"Is this about Seifer and Rinoa?" Squall questioned, taking the lead easily. He was quite used to lying, even to his friends.

"About that," the Head Instructor said in a huff. "I've got a few bones to pick you Squall Leonhart."

Squall raised an eyebrow. When he was Commander, the older woman wouldn't have dared to take a tone that implied she stood on a higher level.

"Oh don't give me that look. We're not on the clock right now."

Squall couldn't help the icy nature of his gaze as he stared at her. Taking control, he moved forward and gestured that they should sit. "You can talk, but I'll decide what I answer."

Bristling uncomfortably, Quistis followed. She hadn't meant to cause him to raise his guard. Now it was probably pointless to ask him anything. "I didn't mean to imply anything," she asserted in an attempt to rectify her mistake.

"It's fine," the former Commander commented.

Laguna took a seat at the round table, settling in beside Squall.

"I suppose I should firstly say that I'm here to bring you back. I can't really say why Cid didn't just call, but he wanted me to come."

Lips pressed tightly together, Squall considered this. He'd made himself unreachable except for in person, which he knew to be the reason why the Headmaster had sent someone. "I'm not returning," he stated simply.

"Squall," Quistis said in reprimand. "You haven't sent back any reports, not even the collection of strategic plays that should have been done a week ago. You haven't called, and no one could call you."

"I have the work done, if you'd like it," the brunet commented.

"Then why didn't you send it?" the blonde pressed with concern. Something was going on, but she couldn't figure it out.

"When I came here, I was off duty. You'll have to excuse me for being a bit lazy."

Expression softening, Quistis gazed at the pale brunet. "I understand. I can explain it all to Cid. He'll understand too I'm sure. But, everyone needs to get back to active duty at some point. The war is over, and we must go on with our lives."

"I agree," Squall stated solemnly, crossing his arms.

Feeling that she was getting somewhere, the instructor smiled softly. "I didn't want to be the one to come here, at least not bringing the news I have." Turning her focus to the President, she continued, "Cid received the legal documents for your request of guardianship. I'm afraid he isn't exactly compliant."

Stirring at these words, Laguna sat forward and stared at the young woman intently. "I'm his father, I have the right for guardianship."

"I'm sorry, but I don't know the reasoning behind any of this and it's not my place to become involved." As much as she wanted to know what was going on, this really wasn't her business. Even if she'd been sent to Esthar and consequently become involved in some way, she was just following orders.

"I'm not returning," Squall stated again. Elaborating his meaning, he added, "I'm leaving Garden and SeeD. I'm staying in Esthar, with my father."

Shocked into silence, it was a few moments before Quistis was capable of speech. "What?" she blurted out incredulously. Squall leaving Garden was not even fathomable to her. "Why?" she asked.

Laguna felt like explaining all the many reasons why Squall was leaving, but he kept silent.

"Because I've chosen to do so," he answered vaguely.

"Squall," Quistis placated. "I've known you since you were a little boy. SeeD is your life. It's all you've ever worked for. You worked tirelessly to become such a good fighter, to become the best mercenary we have, not to mention one of only two master gunbladists in the entire world. Why would you throw all that away?"

"This is what I've chosen," the brunet stated once more.

Leaning forward, Quistis gazed with a tirade of emotions in her eyes. She was confused, shocked, and worried all at once. "What's going on? Is this because Xu was made Commander in your stead?"

Squall couldn't help but give a dry chuckle, amused that she would insinuate such a childish reason. He'd enjoyed the control he had as Commander, but only for the fact that he was given free rein to fight as often as he wanted. The responsibility was never something he enjoyed, and for that he was partly glad the title had been taken away.

"Well then what is it?" the instructor demanded, taking his chuckling as an answer to the contrary. Her desperation wasn't born of failing to complete her orders, but worry. She'd watched over Squall for so long, like a little brother.

"He wants to be with me," Laguna interjected firmly. "The war is over and after all these years, it's time for it."

Momentarily forgetting that she was speaking to the President of an entire nation, she questioned harshly, "Time for what?"

"Time for reconciliation," the President answered with shifting eyes.

"Reconciliation doesn't mean you have to throw your life away," she affirmed logically.

"It's odd how Headmaster Kramer has guardianship over Squall in the first place isn't it?" Laguna questioned with an angry glare at the table. "Why do you suppose he won't let me be Squall's guardian when I'm his biological father?"

"Laguna," Squall said in a near hiss of reprimand. "It's cold out here, let's eat inside."

Suddenly sorry for his words, the President gazed at his son apologetically. "Yes, I'm sure it'll be ready shortly.

"Wait," Quistis said as the two men began to stir from their seats. "What do you mean by that?"

Clenching his jaw, Laguna fought urge to be honest. "I'm just upset over it all. Becoming Squall's guardian is what we both want, so to find out that I'll have to battle Headmaster Kramer for it is a bit distressing."

"Squall," the instructor pressed. "My orders are to bring you back before morning in Balamb. Won't you consider coming with me to explain this to Cid. If he knew that it was what you wanted, then surely this would resolve itself."

"No," Squall answered.

"But why? I don't understand. This is all so sudden."

"Being SeeD is not what I want," the brunet said as he stood up. "I'm sorry if you don't understand, but that's not my problem."

Laguna fidgeted nervously, hurriedly following the younger man.

Exhaling in exasperation, Quistis made to follow, gathering her work up quickly. "Alright, let's say I can just accept that you want to throw away years of training and work down the drain." Trotting to catch up, she walked abreast with Squall. "No offense President Loire, but Squall, you are not exactly the type of person who wants a dad. I know you well enough to know that you've never wanted any family, so you can't tell me that you're leaving because you want to be with Laguna."

"I don't need a father," Squall admitted truthfully. "I've never needed family, but now that I have someone, who's to say I don't want a father now?"

"That's not you," she stated soundly. "I know you, and family is not what you want. You can hardly stand having me or everyone else as friends. From Ellone's dreams, you came to dislike Laguna, no offense again sir."

Laguna grumbled to himself, "That was before he got to know me."

Squall gave a very small and fleeting smile, finding Laguna's grumbling to be rather cute in its pouting manner. "Twenty years ago the President was a different man. I find his odd nature much more tolerable now."

"Odd?" Laguna questioned. "I'm not odd."

"You are," Squall returned.

"Well you're morbid and don't talk a lot," the President shot back in childish banter, a small grin giving away his joking manner.

"What do you want me to tell the Headmaster?" Quistis asked as she keenly eyed Squall's softened expression.

"Whatever," Squall said with a dismissive shrug.

"I can't very well go back empty handed."

"There are plenty of rooms here, feel free to stay a while," the President suggested.

* * *

Confused above all else, Quistis had accepted the offer of a room, at least for a night. She paced the room she'd been shown to while she churned everything over in her head.

Realizing that she needed to call the Headmaster, she hastily sought her phone.

Flipping it open, she continued to pace restlessly. Something about this whole situation didn't sit well with her and she could figure out what.

"Headmaster," she spoke softly. "I'm sorry to disturb you."

"It's fine, are you on your way back? Let me speak with Squall," the voice on the other end said with a stifled yawn.

"Sir, I'm afraid he refuses to return. Squall says that he's leaving Garden."

"What!" the Headmaster cried incredulously.

"I don't understand, but he says he doesn't want to be SeeD anymore. He wants to stay in Esthar, with President Loire."

"Bring him back," Cid ordered harshly.

Silent for a long moment, Quistis wasn't sure what she was being ordered to do. "He refuses to come back."

"Then I'll send reinforcements. By law I have the right to bring him back here."

Disbelieving, Quistis' steps faltered. Stopping completely, she said, "Squall is old enough to make this decision."

"You're supporting him? Perhaps I was mistaken in sending you. Come back immediately, I'm assigning someone who isn't emotionally affected."

"Sir," the Head Instructor protested. She'd never been taken off an assignment and found the threat of it most shameful. She prided herself on being capable of separating personal matters from work. "Give me more time, maybe I can talk him into it."

"No," Cid affirmed, "I want him back here as quickly as possible."

"But why? What is so imperative that Squall needs to take care of?"

"Instructor Trepe, I will not explain my every action to you. You are SeeD, you follow the orders given to you."

"Yes sir," Quistis affirmed with growing dread in the pit of her stomach. Something was definitely going on.

"I'll expect you back in my office by morning."

Hesitantly, the blonde instructor agreed. When the line went dead on the Headmaster's end, she flipped her phone shut. Losing her composure for a moment she cursed and frantically ran a hand through her hair, which caused several strands to become displaced.

She was suddenly torn inside. Her loyalties felt misplaced, but she had no reasons for it. Cid was acting weird. He was being controlling and frantic, not at all like usual. And Squall seemed to be running away from something, which was almost an impossible scenario. Given that Cid seemed to be chasing after her former Commander, she had an inkling of whom Squall was running from, though not what.

But, for all her deduction, there was no logic to back it up. She was above all else a very logical person, basing every action on sound fact. She had a gut instinct that something was awry. She also harbored a fierce sense of loyalty to the young SeeD who had been her Commander and seen her through the darkest of times.

Knowing she had scarce time to think, needing to call Selphie and have the pilot pick her up, she made that call with many apologies for the odd hour.

With Ragnarok on the way, she left her rooms in search of Squall. The least she could do was to warn the boy that Cid had a mind to send soldiers to force him to return.

TBC…


	14. Chapter 14

Living with Heart

Act XIV

In a frenzied exchange, Laguna stole what brief moments he could as he ravished the brunet. Precariously hidden by the shadows, he pinned Squall to the wall with his body and roved the boy's mouth as deeply as his tongue would reach.

They were parting ways, their guards just around the corner, and he could hardly contain himself. Encouraging hands grasped loosed strands of his hair, demanding that he not pull away and continue to carry out every sinful desire that popped into his head.

Laguna was beginning to learn how to read Squall, how to understand his lover's wants and needs. It had never been something he placed much stock in, always assuming that such a claim to read the very subtle signal was just experience and familiarity.

Yet as those arms wrapped around his neck, he felt quite certain the brunet had some want for a strong handed lead. Perhaps it had been the rather obvious hint when he'd pushed the boy against the wall and an unwarranted gasping moan sounded.

Reaching behind, he roughly gripped slim wrists and forced Squall arms high above both their heads, now pinning the boy entirely. He wasn't a very dominant person, but for Squall he'd dominate for all his worth.

Giving off a dangerously loud moan, Squall tested his restraints and gave a gentle tug against the older man's hand. There was something beyond arousing at submitting completely and still feeling safe. It was a feeling he'd never experienced before, to know Laguna wouldn't hurt him. It was simply safe, which was an odd emotion to tangle with passion and lust.

Each second that passed was more dangerous. Thomas and James could round the corner any second, regardless of the President's request for a few moments alone before Squall went to bed.

A kiss was certainly too much, but Laguna simply couldn't help himself. He felt hypocritical after his previous assertion that they absolutely couldn't share more than a short hug or clap on the back.

"Hyne I want you," Laguna hissed as he broke away before their panting and soft moans became loud enough to echo through the hall.

Licking his reddened lips, Squall arched against the older man. Given their conduct between them over the past couple weeks, it was probably no secret from their bodyguards just what they were up to when they constantly disappeared into quarters that only had one bed.

As much as the brunet preferred discretion and absolute secrecy about all his servicing duties, he wasn't very keen on keeping his relationship with Laguna under wraps. He understood the need to not let anyone know, but a small part of him felt as though he now had a lover he could be proud of, despite the shameful fact that it was his own father.

"The feeling is mutual," Squall whispered. He wouldn't push the man into anything, so he remained in place and waited for a reaction.

Squall almost laughed at the way big hazel green eyes gazed at him imploringly. It was puppy dog look not even Selphie could top. Understanding that in such an instance, Laguna was not strong enough to refuse him, he gave a shallow kiss goodnight to the man's lips. "Goodnight then," he murmured before pulling away. Just as he'd assumed, Laguna let him go upon the firmer insistence of release. It was an affirmation of just how accurate he was in his trusting beliefs.

"I love you," the President said quickly, as if desperate to say it before they went separate ways.

A small smile tugged Squall's lips upward. "I know," he assured. Turning back, he placed a hand at the man's hip and drew in close. "I love you too."

With another quick kiss, followed by another and yet another, the pair nearly wound up against the wall once more. However, the resounding click of heels stalking down the corridor reached their ears and caused them to jump apart.

Laguna quickly began running fingers through his disheveled hair. Glancing at Squall, he gave a firm stare before reaching out and attempting to tame mussed tresses of chestnut locks. The boy seemed to ooze sex at the moment, obviously have just partaken in a rather heated goodnight kiss.

"It's fine," Squall dismissed, batting the President's hands away.

As the footsteps stopped, and Quistis began to speak with James, Squall realized that neither guard would let her pass.

Quickly walking around the corner, Squall came into view of the two men who stood tall and made a casual barrier as they stood side by side.

"It's okay, let her through," Laguna called as he trailed right behind Squall.

"Squall," Quistis spoke with an edge of nervousness. Her eyes roved each face present, unwilling to speak her business to anyone but her former student.

Perceptively reading the blonde woman's expression, the brunet gestured for her to follow. "We can talk in my rooms."

* * *

"I see," Squall said at length, eyes trained on the rug under his feet.

"I need to leave, Selphie's on her way," Quistis announced hesitantly. She'd already spent more time explaining her conversation with Cid than she should have.

"Of course," the brunet commented as he raised his head and looked into his former instructor's eyes. She had orders to follow and had gone out of her way to warn him. "Thank you Quistis."

Brows drawn together in inner debate, Quistis fought with her curiosity on the matter. The least she could do was question Squall, and if she received no answers she'd know it wasn't her business. "So you want Laguna to be your dad this badly?" It was odd given that it was just a small technicality. President Loire was already Squall's father.

"He's a good man," Squall stated cryptically.

"If you don't mind my asking, why is Cid so worked up about this? I don't think I've ever seen him act like this before. It's disturbing, and I don't know why."

"Everyone has secrets," Squall assured. "You never see every side to someone until you've seen them through another's eyes," he explained. "Cid is a very dedicated man, but his dedication is to Garden and Edea, nothing else."

"Squall," Quistis murmured as she stared intensely at the younger man.

Giving a wry smile, Squall tried to assure her that it was a simple fact of life and nothing to fret over. "Let's just say that my leaving is a hard blow to Garden. Cid will expend the equivalent of my worth to get me back, understand?" The truer depth of his worth was his knowledge, information that would cripple Cid and dozens of other leaders.

Quistis considered Squall's logic, finding that it was true but still shocking. "I suppose," she said after a moment. It was obvious she wasn't going to get any details, though she felt better about the whole situation now. "As long as your okay. I have to follow orders, but if anything happens, you know I'm on your side."

"It'll be fine," Squall assured with a false smile. He was grateful that Quistis knew when to leave well enough alone, especially when matters wound up involving her.

"Selphie has probably arrived already, and cursing me for waking her up and then making her wait."

"Would you like an escort?" Squall offered.

Not looking forward to finding a ride to the outskirts of the city, she accepted, "Please."

* * *

Tossing around restlessly, Squall groaned aloud as his eyes glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. The glowing green numbers informed him that he was well on his way to not receiving any sleep that night. It was almost three in the morning, and he refused to sleep past noon.

Casting aside the thick quilt, Squall sat up. With a dismayed sigh he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Standing with a weary scratch to mussed hair, he strode out of the room.

Regardless of wearing nothing more than the baggy flannels Laguna liked and a black beater, he left his quarters. Steely blue eyes glanced around the darkened corridor, landing upon the familiar form of his guard.

"Do you ever sleep?" Squall inquired, slightly in awe of the man's ability to be awake for so long.

With a small smirk, James regarded the pajama-wearing brunet. "I might say the same," he returned.

Making a non-committal sound, Squall made his way left, his destination being the President's rooms.

Silently, James followed, eventually walking abreast with the boy when his eyes trailed over swaying hips and shapely ass more than once. He didn't need any distractions, especially ones that made him want to bang his head against the wall for being so pathetic. But, there was some consolation in knowing that any attraction wasn't unwarranted, since the brunet was the President's lover and that must have meant the kid was something special.

"James," Squall said after a few minutes of walking, knowing he was only halfway there in his slow pace. "I thought you should know that soldiers are going to be sent to take me back."

Stopping, the blond guard reached out and grabbed a bare shoulder. "I'll need details on this," he said as he reached for his phone.

"I don't have details," Squall stated evenly. "But it should hardly matter."

"All security threats to the President are considered serious. I don't care if these SeeD are just after you, if you're in the direct vicinity of President Loire, we have a serious problem."

Squall scoffed. "I can guarantee anyone Cid had in store is hardly a match for Laguna, even if he's out of practice."

"That is not for you to decide," James said firmly, his dark eyes boring into the younger man's intently.

"I meant it as a precaution," the brunet said. "On the off chance that there is a breach, I'm capable of handling it. However, unlike you, I don't run on two hours of sleep a day."

"I'll be looking into the matter," James assured, hardly confident in the boy's skill.

With a nod of understand, Squall agreed, "As expected."

Once outside the President's rooms, Squall observed the subtle nod exchanged between Thomas and James. He'd be a fool to think that neither man knew what was going on between himself and Laguna. It was their job to watch their respective charge at all times, privacy of secured quarters omitted.

Before Squall entered, he paused for a thoughtful moment, debating whether or not Kiros would throw a fit. However, he considered his involvement in discreet relations to be suitable experience when making such decisions as who knew what.

"I'm sure I don't need to inform either of you what is between the President and myself," he whispered just loud enough for each straight standing guard to hear on either side of the door. Not waiting for a reply he knew he wouldn't receive, he continued, "Where do your loyalties lie?"

"Is that an attempt at a joke?" James commented with little amusement.

"Hardly," Squall returned, staring the broad formed man in the eyes. "It's imperative that I know you support the President no matter what."

"It goes without saying," Thomas stated firmly, sternly staring at the former Commander with mixed feelings.

"That it does," James bit out a little defensively.

With a solemn nod, Squall accepted their answers and defensive anger. He never tried to make people happy when he wasn't being ordered to, or at least guilt tripped into it. "There is a custody battle that will no doubt be made public quite soon. The President will win, because he is my actual father. Given what you two have all but seen happen between Laguna and I, I need to know that it won't become a problem."

Squall stepped back to stare at both men at once. James seemed to process his meaning and grasp the exact circumstance first, closely followed by a wide-eyed Thomas. Crossing his arms, Squall questioned once more, "Where do your loyalties lie?"

With dawning understanding beyond the shocking and sickening news, James felt any anger dissipate in light of the obvious necessity for being questioned on his loyalty. "To a great leader and man who has created a better way of life for us all, I am at his service."

Squall's gaze flickered towards the slightly more aged guard with jet-black hair.

"Are you really his son?" Thomas asked with a sneering cringe.

"Flesh and blood," Squall stated. He wasn't about to defend his relationship with Laguna, not willing to point out that they hadn't ever been like a father and son to each other. If it took coercing to affirm the man's loyalty, then there was doubt. Any doubt could not be tolerated.

"While I could have done without ever knowing about this, it doesn't change anything except for the nightmares I'll be having."

"Since I don't have to remind you that Laguna's involvement with me is top secret, I won't make that redundant point," Squall said before silently opening the door and walking in without further glance at either guard.

As far as he knew, there were only three people who knew about their relationship, excluding himself and Laguna. Given that the main focus of the custody battle was the DNA proof that Laguna was his real father, the guards were bound to catch wind. They would begin to doubt the conclusions that being the President's son was just an excuse to have him at the estate, and once again doubt was not tolerable.

Squall was far from doing this for Laguna's protection. If there was someone as close as James or Thomas against him, then the possibility of SeeD getting past security went up exponentially. While he felt certain Cid would never do anything to Laguna, he refused to go back and would take any precautions necessary. He could take on the whole of Garden individually, but if Cid sent ten or more soldiers at once, he'd have a tough time.

With soft steps, Squall crossed the dark room, navigating it from memory with the hopes that Laguna hadn't moved anything. Reaching the bedroom door, he quietly entered without knocking.

It was equally dark. The heavy drapes drawn shut with no perceptible source of light. Careful not to collide with the President's sleeping form, Squall crawled beneath the blankets and into bed with the older man.

Drawn to the warmth, his body feeling chilled after walking the corridors with practically nothing on, Squall furled close to the sleeping man. With Quistis gone, he was willing to risk another night with Laguna.

As a strong arm suddenly wrapped around him and drew him flush against the man's warm chest, Squall felt the on set of sleep finally come.

"What took you so long?" Laguna murmured, still half asleep.

Sighing contently, Squall buried his face in the crook of Laguna's neck, warmth spreading through him. "It's hard to admit being so pathetic," Squall answered quietly, his voice was no louder than a soft whisper.

There was a delay before Laguna processed the boy's meaning. "Needing someone during your most vulnerable time is not pathetic," he chastised through his sluggish haze of still being half asleep. "Besides, it makes me feel special."

Not responding, Laguna gave a goofy grin upon registering that Squall was already asleep. Having been only minutes from giving up and going to Squall's room, he'd been elated at the feel of the mattress shifting and the lithe body that sidled up to him.

Squall was dangerously addictive. If he couldn't go a single night without that beautiful body in his arms, then he feared he had serious problems ahead of him. He wondered how far he'd be driven in his need as time progressed. Would he constantly need Squall at his side, within arms reach?

Convinced that he had some semblance of control and strong will, Laguna assured himself that one more night together was hardly being addicted or overly needy. Tomorrow night he'd sleep alone, and he'd be just fine.

Hyne it felt good to hold Squall close, to press himself firmly against the boy's body and feel the warmth. Soft breath ghosted his neck, sending shivers of pleasure through him. He'd never be able to let go again, never live his life as he had before he'd known Squall's touch.

The only way Laguna was able to fall asleep himself was with the change of heart about the next night. He found his mind wouldn't settle down unless he assured that this wasn't their last night until August twenty-second.

* * *

As the ramp slowly closed with a hissing whir of hydraulics, Quistis quickly made her way to the cockpit. During her ride over she'd concluded that she was in need of a consult. Her admittance of slight disobedience would remain secret, but she wanted to discuss Cid's behavior with someone other than Squall.

It was obvious that Squall showed more breadth of knowledge of Cid's character than any of them, which was suspicious but she deemed not her business. However, this was the first assignment she was ever pulled off and for a rather incensing reason. She prided herself on her professional indifference and couldn't help but harbor ill will at Cid's accusations.

Then again, she'd pledged her loyalty to Squall should the unlikely event of taking sides occur. Perhaps she had been far too personal and the Headmaster had seen that.

The Head Instructor was mildly surprised to find the chipper pilot locking lips with Balamb's trademark cowboy.

"Irvine?" Quistis questioned as she walked to the closest seat near the pair, just behind the pilot's seat.

With a small giggle, Selphie slid from Irvine's lap and mumbled a quick apology. "You took a while, and I got bored," the flippy haired woman explained with a sheepish grin.

"Ouch darlin'," Irvine drawled with a greeting wink to the blonde instructor. "You wouldn't happen to be saying that my services are for fleeting entertainment only, would you?"

"Pretty much," Selphie mumbled absently as she revved her beauty of a ship to life.

With a weeping look of sorrow, Irvine gestured to the laptop in the seat beside him. "Cid asked me to hack the satellite," he stated with a stifled yawn.

Eyes brows shooting up in question, Quistis asked, "What for?"

With a lazy shrug, the gunman scoured the premise for his fallen hat before ducking to retrieve it. Carefully placing it atop his head, he snatched the computer and opened it up. "The first try was a failure, but seeing as how I'd narrowed it down to two codes, this next shot should do the trick."

Cracking his fingers, Irvine gave a quick playboy smile to Quistis. "I've got the fastest hands in the world," he stated confidently.

"That's not the only part of you that's fast," Selphie chimed in, making to strap in to the seat and flipping on the seatbelt light simply for the sake of feeling special.

With a dejected sigh, Irvine leaned across the aisle to whisper, "She thinks I was flirting with Xu, which means I don't get further than first base for another week."

Rolling her eyes, Quistis questioned, "Did you flirt with Xu?"

"I wasn't serious," the gunman defended before turning his attention back to the now powered on laptop.

"Selphie," Quistis began with a tone that implied she needed to get something off her chest.

"Yeah?" the head-bobbing woman asked, apparently listening to music inside her own head.

"Has Cid been acting strange lately?"

"You mean aside from asking me to break into Esthar's orbiting trinket without any just cause?" Irvine asked with avid interest.

"Well, he's also acting very strange about Squall," Quistis added, stating the specific issue she referred to.

"How is Squall?" Selphie asked. Setting the liftoff on standby, she unstrapped herself and turned to regard the blonde woman sitting directly behind her.

"He's leaving Garden," the blonde stated solemnly. "He actually wants to stay with Laguna, says that the President is a good man."

Mouth agape and eyes wide with incredulity, Selphie took a moment to simply stare at the older girl. "When he said that, was he gritting his teeth like he was fighting mind control?"

"No, he was being entirely serious. When I arrived, they were both gone for several hours. Apparently they spend all their time together."

"That's insane darlin'," Irvine commented. "Our little ice prince doesn't spend time with anyone."

"That's why I'm confused, but Cid pulled me off the case before I could look any further into it."

"Cid pulled you off?" Selphie intoned with even greater disbelief. "I'm sorry Quisty."

"I'll live," the instructor assured. "But, it was very weird how Cid reacted when first receiving the custody suit and then when he sent me to bring Squall back." She wanted to mention what Squall had told her, but she couldn't do that without also mentioning that she'd spoken to Squall about Cid's odd behavior. "Cid's going to send a force to bring Squall back?"

"A force?" Irvine questioned.

"He said reinforcements, so I don't know if he's thinking of declaring war or sending in Seifer." Heaving a sigh, Quistis tried to piece everything together. Finding all her thoughts lead to an impasse, she focused on something else. "What are you supposed to be checking out from the satellite?"

"Video feed," Irvine declared. "But, I can't do it until we lift off, we're too far away."

Frowning, Quistis sat back and absently strapped into her seat. "A video feed of what?" she questioned to herself.

With a frown of his own, the gunman expressed his own discomfort. "I don't have a clue, I'm not allowed to check the files out, just download them and bring it back."

Hardly believing what she was about to suggest, Quistis glanced at each face with slight anguish. She was torn between her duty and her gut instinct. "Guys, I think we need to figure out what's going on."

"Well, I was going to sneak a peek at the video anyway, so you're welcome to check it out also," Irvine stated, his accent fading without the conscious effort to keep it up.

TBC…

A/N Sorry for the long wait, but alas, my main priority is Strings Attached.


	15. Chapter 15

Living with Heart

Act XV

Tilting her head to the side, Selphie stuck her tongue out and squinted at the screen in an attempt to make the image look like something else. At length she huffed and leaned her head the other way in a similar attempt. "No matter how you look at it, Squall is hugging Sir Laguna."

"Darlin', we established that ten minutes ago," Irvine drawled with a smile at her antics. The funniest part was that she was seriously trying to make the screen show something else.

"How long were they gone?" Quistis questioned.

"The first time it was around eight hours," Irvine answered. After checking the clocked time for the second voyage, he said, "The second trip was pushing nine." That was a long time to be doing anything, especially when it involved two people who couldn't have been more unsuited for spending quality time together. "Is it just me or is the entire thing a little fishy?"

"Fishy?" Selphie chimed in question, quickly moving closer.

Currently there was just a stilled image of Squall on the President's bike, the two of them hugging. For any other father and son coupling, it would have been just a normal bonding moment.

"Well," Irvine said slowly, patiently willing to explain. "I can't remember much about Squall as a tyke and I haven't known him as long as the rest of you, but I find it fishy that he's being so darn intimate with the President."

"That much is obvious," Quistis commented, not belittling the observation. "There's the close proximity and occasional touches, plus the amount of time they're together. No matter how many times I picture the sincerity in Squall's eyes when he said he wanted to be adopted, it just doesn't seem like Squall."

"Guys," Selphie spoke up in opposition. "It's really sweet and happy. Everyone needs someone, and maybe Squall's just always needed his dad, you know?"

Taking off his hat, Irvine set it in the seat beside him. "Babe, our dearest leader is a great man and someone I respect and look up to, but facts are facts. Our little ice prince does not have a sweet and happy side. He's a cold, miserable person."

"He's not miserable Irvine," the blonde instructor chastised. "While I agree that it's highly doubtful that there is this other side to him, he's not nearly as cold as you might think."

Violet eyes leveled the older girl with a solemn expression. "I've dabbled in a little Squall watching myself Quisty. This guy is stone cold from the heart outwards. Don't misperceive duty as kindness. When he saved Rinoa and the rest of our hides in every tight scrape, it was out of duty."

Making a whimpering sound of sadness, Selphie slunk over to the pilot's seat and plopped down. "Are you saying Squall doesn't love us?"

"I can love you enough for ten men. You don't need the Commander," Irvine soothed.

"Former commander," Quistis corrected absently.

"I would disagree with you Quisty, since he would have always been the Commander to me, but now that you say he's leaving Garden, I guess that's true."

"Why does Cid need the videos of Squally and Sir Laguna riding motorcycles?" Selphie posed in question, refocusing on what their powwow was about in the first place.

Eyes staring at the screen of Irvine's laptop for a thoughtful moment, Quistis answered, "Cid's likely looking for the sort of things we've found, the suspicious behavior. Perhaps to find some basis for arguing the adoption."

"Their long rides together are hardly the most suspicious issues we have on the table," Irvine pointed out. "While I'm loyal to Balamb Garden, I've never liked Cid. Don't get me wrong, I don't like Headmaster Martine either, so it might just be an issue with authority."

"I'll act like I didn't hear that," the Head Instructor commented.

"I haven't talk with Cid, just you," Selphie said with a nod Quistis' way, expressing that she was not qualified to cast judgment on the Headmaster's behavior.

"Orders standing, these videos go to Cid," Irvine declared. "Naturally he doesn't need to know we checked them out. I don't really care what he's up to, since it doesn't seem possible for anyone to just make the Balamb Lion do anything. We shouldn't worry."

Quistis leveled the gunman with a chastising glare. "Irvine Kinneas, you will show some concern for Squall or so help me, I'll interrupt every time you talk to any of the female cadets."

Sitting upright, Irvine stared at the blonde wide eyed. Clearing his throat he placated, "Even though I don't flirt with anyone but Selphie," he emphasized his point with a quick wink the pilot's way, "Such measures are extremely unnecessary."

"We'll see," Quistis replied while crossing her arms.

"We've got about five minutes before we arrive," Selphie announced.

"Alright," the longhaired man conceded. "I'll make copies of the files and ask Cid what I can when I see him."

"Thank you," Quistis said in appreciation.

Taking the controls, Selphie switched the autopilot off. "Should we let Zell in on this?" she questioned with an air of uncertainty. Zell was known for not being able to keep secrets, but the boxer had never let them down before.

"That might be a good idea," Quistis said with a nod of approval. "But, if Cid or Xu ask, then you guys don't know anything. I started this, so if anyone's taking the fall for disobedience, it's me."

"Roger," Irvine agreed easily.

"Hey!" Selphie reprimanded. "You'd let Quisty take a bullet for you just like that?"

"Darlin', if it were you, I'd stand up in a heartbeat."

"You're sleeping on the couch tonight Irvine Kinneas," Selphie announced with an angry glare at the control panel.

"Selphie," Quistis spoke up upon receiving a pleading gaze from the gunman. "Irvine's right. There's no sense in all of us being ordered to keep our noses out of this. The worst that could happen is a couple weeks suspension. However, if we're all suspended, then we'll never figure out what's going on."

"True," the copper-haired woman mumbled. "Still, I want my boyfriend to care about his friends," she stated clearly for the cowboy to hear.

"That's harsh darlin'," Irvine drawled with exaggerated hurt. Being a sharpshooter, he shared many similarities with Squall. In his isolation, he rarely cared for anyone to the degree he cared for his friends from the orphanage. He wasn't a cold man, but realistic and unwilling to sacrifice what he cared about most in the world for anything. Between himself and Selphie, plus his hat and collection of guns, he took care of what he could until it came time to choose.

With a sigh, Quistis began to strap herself in at the telltale feeling of their descent. As the gunman scrambled to secure his computer and self into place, she realized this was Selphie's revenge and that the honest cowboy wouldn't be sleeping on a couch.

* * *

Hand against the window, Laguna stared down from his office with an almost pained expression. It was his second day without having seen Squall, which was a travesty in itself. Adding to his distress, Kiros sat patiently in front of his desk while he considered the real possibility of finding a girlfriend.

"I don't like it," the President murmured for the tenth time.

"Whether or not you like it doesn't matter. We need to set this up in case Kramer starts making allegations."

"But no one knows about Squall and me. We've been careful," Laguna asserted. Turning from his place, he leveled his close friend with a pleading gaze. "What would Squall think? I couldn't do something like this, even for show."

"Squall would no doubt encourage you. The boy knows a thing or two about politics," Kiros assured calmly. "You can talk to him before we go any further, but I strongly advise you to do this Laguna."

Brows drawn together, the raven-haired man bit his lip in thought. Walking back to his seat, he sunk down in a slouch, as if he were a five year old refusing to sit properly because he wanted to express his distaste for whatever was going on. "Would I have to date her?" he questioned with obvious distain.

"A few dates for the public to see, just to get the rumors going."

Frowning Laguna imagined himself having a candle lit dinner with whoever was chosen to play the part. It was not a pretty picture in his mind, not when it wasn't Squall he was with. There was also the slap in the face that came with knowing a fake date would be more than he could ever do with Squall.

Shaking his head, Laguna refused. "No, I won't do it."

Sighing, Kiros rubbed his temples. Just when he thought the strong willed man was about to agree, the same declaration came up. "Fine," the advisor conceded in defeat. "Ward said he'd deliver your message tonight and stay at the estate, so he'll be by before he leaves."

Sitting straight and leaning forward, the President's eyes lit up with hope. "Can't I call Squall?" he requested excitedly. "Talking over the phone can't hurt, just for tonight?"

"No, absolutely not," Kiros shot down, his dark brown eyes staring sternly at the President. "I found you two in bed even after it was made perfectly clear that anything more than a handshake was too much. If you can't keep your hands off each other, then you can't be in direct contact at all."

"But I can control myself, I swear," Laguna assured desperately. "I just wanna hear his voice."

"No," Kiros stated again. "The lines are secure, but we can't take a chance that someone might be listening in. You're like an adolescent around the boy Laguna, I just know you'll wind up exchanges words that no father and son should."

"What if you you're in the room with me?" Laguna suggested.

Finding the pleading look in hazel green eyes too much to deny, Kiros cracked. It was like denying a starving child a scrap of food. Laguna reverted to a child the moment Squall was mentioned, and acted as if the boy were the damn air he needed to survive. It was an alarming weakness for the President to have. "I'll think about it. Later though, if only to say goodnight."

Shooting from his seat, Laguna nearly jumped over the desk, but opted to have some control and rushed around it. Pulling his friend into a backbreaking hug, he rejoiced the prospect of saying goodnight to Squall.

"Can Ward still give him my letters?" the President pushed. He had a feeling Kiros couldn't be nagged into letting him speak for more than a couple minutes, which was not nearly enough time to say everything he wanted to. He'd been writing letters all day, which were to be safely delivered by Ward that evening.

"I don't know what that boy sees in you," Kiros commented with exasperation. Laguna's choice in partner was perhaps the worst there could possibly be. Yet, the longhaired President had never seemed happier than in recent weeks. He could not deny the kindhearted goofball the chance at being so happy. Still, he felt quite concerned about the mindset of the Balamb Lion, a man rumored to have a heart of ice. This relationship certainly didn't have the markings of one that would last very long, and he wasn't looking forward to the sort of heartbreak that seemed inevitable.

* * *

James practically collapsed against the soft grass. Panting and sweating beyond what he thought someone of his particular conditioning should be, he felt inclined to change his judgment on what the President's son could do.

Without a flicker of a smirk at his victory, Squall wiped his glistening brow with his forearm and drank from his water bottle. He always enjoyed a good work out, especially when Seifer wasn't on hand. It was nice to know he wouldn't have to seek the blond knight out every time he wanted to spar. Though, he would have to wait for Seifer if he wanted to use his gunblade, unless his bodyguard felt up for training over the next several years to become a master gunbladist.

Dark eyes scanned the dimming sky. It would be dark in an hour, maybe less. Sitting up, James felt a more natural pattern of breathing set in. "You surprise me," he admitted while raking his hand through damp blond hair.

Squall didn't respond with anything more than an absent shrug. Taking a seat, he stretched out a bit, his muscles feeling a bit cramped. His training regime hadn't been regulated since before the war and his body was beginning to feel the effects of it. He'd need to establish some sort of schedule, which would be easier said than done once Laguna was back in his life every day.

"Considering that advisor Seagill is aware of all the President's affairs, is it safe to assume that President Loire will be kept a safe distance from you?"

Stormy blue eyes stared at the older man for a searching moment. "You're rather curious today," he said at length, preferring not to divulge details unless absolutely necessary.

"Can you blame me?" James returned. "You are the one who involved me. Now I'm the one with this secret. I hardly know anything, and by nature it is my job to know everything."

Squall remained silent out of sheer spite, proving that he would only speak if he wanted to. At length he gave a small nod and conceded the point his guard had made. "I don't know how long the President will be staying at the palace."

"Take a guess," James urged, almost laughing at the way the boy's lips pressed tightly together in obvious dislike for being ordered.

Refraining from glaring at the blond guard, Squall assured, "I involved you because I know you support the President, not for the sake of a confident."

"That much is plain to see, but consider my confidence a benefit."

Shaking his head, Squall sighed. Given the constant surveillance, he didn't need to explain much of anything to James. The man assigned as his bodyguard already knew him well enough to know he wouldn't speak openly or at length.

Tossing the water bottle to the older man, Squall listened to the sound of crickets, now audible without the noise of panting breathes and blocked kicks and punches. The atmosphere felt completely different in the Loire Estate, at least compared to the outside world. He didn't feel cooped up exactly, not yet anyway, but he did have that feeling of isolation. In all his time at Garden, he'd searched for quiet and solitude, but now he hardly knew what to do with himself day in and day out. While traveling around the city seemed enticing, he was hardly fool enough to leave himself to exposed before his birthday.

"You're a tough person to dissect, but I think I'll figure you out some day," James declared with a note of defeat. He'd have better luck receiving answers from a wall than this tightlipped child. Shirking off his failed attempt, he drank from the bottle liberally.

"I'll tell you any story you want when you can land a solid hit," the brunet proposed with a slight air of mischief. Ever since their first meeting, he'd felt as though James never grasped the concept of what it took to be SeeD, always underestimating him. It was rather satisfying to demonstrate his skill from time to time, though he was a far cry from flaunting it like his rival.

"You're on," James accepted as he clambered to his feet. "I'm getting too old for this," he cursed with a rub to his sore shoulder. Though his charge remained seated for a few more moments, he knew better than to offer a hand. Finding his suit coat neatly folded nearby, he busied himself with setting his tie back in place and looking presentable despite being so sweaty.

The cool night air flittered through damp strands of dark chestnut hair. Squall stood and felt his skin cool rapidly. He could tell it was going to be colder than most nights already. His thin white t-shirt wouldn't be enough if he were going to remain outside much longer.

Halfway back to the estate, Squall's phone rang. Despite the assumption that he would have been receiving calls from Garden nonstop, he'd hardly been contacted at all. Xu had called him once, attempting to pick up where Quistis had left off. Zell had called, just to confirm what he'd told Quistis about leaving.

Reaching into his jean pocket he extracted the source of the noise. Seeing that the specific caller was titled as unknown, the small screen simply informing him the call came from Balamb Garden, he assumed it was the Headmaster. He'd been wondering when the man would gather enough wit to call him personally.

"I need to take this," Squall said quietly before back tracking a bit. Distancing himself from James, he expressed his want for privacy. The tired looking guard seemed to understand, having dealt with all the circumstances involved with shadowing someone.

Simply flipping the phone open, Squall raised it to his ear and waited. As expected, Cid was both impatient and perceivably frantic.

"Squall?" the Headmaster's voice sounded on the other end. "If that's you at least let me know," he chastised.

"It's me," the brunet murmured in reply, recalling his lessons in manners from Matron. Now however, his appreciation for all Edea had done for him was undermined by his constant suspicions about how much she knew regarding his dealings with Cid.

"For Hyne's sake Squall, what are you doing over there?"

"Currently?" Squall questioned with underlying mirth at being able to screw with the Headmaster for the first time. "Or are you referring to my plans for the future?"

"Future plans?" Cid bit out angrily. "Your plans should involve stopping this nonsense and returning at once. Don't make me use force. You belong here."

While Squall mentally scoffed at Cid's declaration, he kept his knowledge about the so-called reinforcements to himself. His appreciation for Quistis' warning was shown by his ability to not lead to her demotion.

"Cid, perhaps it has escaped your attention that I am not a child. I belong where I choose to belong," Squall returned coldly, his voice laced with malice.

"Surely you can understand my concerns. The information you have could crush many important people. I cannot allow you to just leave after all this time."

Glaring at a nearby tree, Squall bit his lip to keep his rising anger under control. He hadn't expected to feel such anger towards Cid, but perhaps that was a subsequent effect of finally affirming that he hadn't wanted the life he'd led prior to escaping to Esthar. "I suppose it'd be pointless to assure you that I have no intentions of ever mentioning what went on and who was involved."

"Squall, you've never given me any reason to not trust you," Cid said gently. "But, I can't risk this. You know what position you're putting me in. You have to come back."

"What would I be coming back to?" Squall questioned bitterly, no longer caring to hide his feelings on the matter after all his years of showing Cid complete indifference. Slowly, he moved further away from listening ears as the threat of losing his cool increased.

There was a heavy sigh on the other end. "Squall, I can't tell you how I wish things hadn't turned out this way. I was terrified of what might happen if Edea ever lost control of her powers. Garden was my only hope, but we were struggling. I never wanted it to be about the money or the contracts, but that was the only way."

"You haven't answered my question." One arm casually circling his waist, he paced slowly. He'd never understood how Cid had gone from reluctantly letting his visits with Norg continue to soliciting him to every influential leader in hopes of favoritism.

"Under my eyes, you don't have to do anything. I just need to have some control over where you go and whom you speak to. I won't ask you to do anything you don't want to," the bargaining man assured.

Squall hated himself for believing the sincerity in the Headmaster's words. But, he couldn't help but feel as though if he'd only spoken up long ago then Cid would have ended it all. Granted, he had spoken up on several occasions, but he'd never refused outright.

Time was what he needed to consider everything, but he didn't have any more time. He wanted to ask if he could back in the field, but that was likely out of bounds. There was also the stipulation of being famous. With his face known among the general populace, what good was he in the field any way?

"Squall?" Cid questioned. The brunet's silence on the phone was easy to mistake for his absence all together.

"If…" Squall began but trailed off. He didn't want to be weak and he didn't want to go back. What he needed was to have Laguna's arms wrapped firmly around him as a reminder of what he now wanted out of life.

"'If' what Squall?" Cid asked earnestly, his voice seemingly like that of a worried father. At length when there was no reply, he urged, "Come home Squall. Garden is where you belong, I know you can feel it deep inside. You belong here, as SeeD. It's what you've worked so hard for. Can you just give it all up as if it never meant anything?"

Leaning against the tree for support, Squall stared off with turbulent emotion in his eyes. "Why should I trust that things wouldn't continue where they left off, if you can't trust that I won't leak my information?"

"I trust you Squall, I do. But I'd be remiss as Headmaster if I didn't take the extra precaution. You know what it's like to be the leader, to have so much counting on every decision. I know you understand why I must insist upon this."

"I know," Squall spoke without thinking. He wanted to kick himself for betraying his feelings on the matter.

"Then come home," Cid pressed.

The hand that gripped his side tightly released its hold and traveled to rub his brow. He felt so conflicted between what was right and wrong. Hearing Garden referred to as his home sounded so terribly tempting. It fit perfectly. Garden was his home, yet if he were to go back he'd be pathetic and weak. "This is my home now," he stated. Though his voice was stern with resolve, it was entirely for show. He'd never doubted himself more.

There was a loud crash at the other end. "The heavens damn you boy!" Cid cursed angrily. "I'd hoped to reason with you, but you leave me no choice."

"I will defeat anyone you send," Squall assured. The only people he wouldn't be capable of fighting were his friends, and he felt certain that if Quistis was loyal to him then so was everyone else. He didn't need to worry about fighting anyone he cared about.

"I realize now that sending SeeD is pointless. I'm assured by instructor Trepe's constant prying that neither she nor the others would be willing to drag you back. However, I think it'll prove more effective to use your weakness."

Stormy eyes narrowed. Squall wasn't sure what Cid was getting at. After a moment, his eyes widened and his heart raced. His world seemed to fall apart as he feared the worst had happened. Cid knew about Laguna, somehow managing to find evidence of the incestuous affair.

"You have a lion's pride," Cid said after a moment. "If you will not return willingly, then I'm not above informing your friends of your various deeds over the years. I am quite certain they know nothing, and they know nothing because you don't want them to know."

Feeling rather queasy, Squall swallowed thickly. Relief and horror gripped him at the same time. He couldn't have been more elated that Laguna remained free of implication, yet one of his worst fears had been for his friends to find out. Excluding Seifer, the others knew nothing, and he carried on each day with an impassive mask to make certain it stayed that way.

"What would they think, I wonder?" Cid spoke slowly. His consoling tone mocked the scenario he proposed. "I hardly think it would matter if you gave them the full truth, the fact remains they'd learn what you've done. How many men have you slept with now? I don't think I've been able to keep count. Just what shameful lengths have you gone to, to make sure your partners were kept happy?"

"I never wanted any of it!" Squall hissed, his emotions getting the better of him.

"And neither did I, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I doubt anyone but you and I will see it that way. I can smear your name without implicating any other parties. You are a prideful boy who never failed to please anyone. Don't fail me now Squall. You have twenty-four hours to be standing before my office desk, or I call them in and fill in the missing blanks to your past."

With a muffled click Cid was gone. For several minutes, Squall listened to the silence on the other end. Nothing was ever simple, nothing was ever easy, and nothing ever turned out the way he wanted.

Shutting his phone, Squall stared blankly at the ground. Still leaning against the tree, his hand fell limply to his side.

'A lion's pride,' he thought with a vague understanding of how true it was. He'd never thought of himself as having too much pride, but as he began to plan out how he was to leave, he realized it was his weakness.

* * *

Kiros watched Laguna pace back and forth. Frowning, he waited for the President to acknowledge his forgotten presence. When hazel green eyes turned his way he stood from his seat. "What is it?" the dark skinned advisor questioned.

"I don't know, maybe I'm paranoid," Laguna muttered as he continued to pace.

"You didn't even use half your time, is he busy?"

"No, he wasn't busy," Laguna replied. "He was…"

Sighing, Kiros prompted, "What?"

"He was distant, I think. I don't know, something just seemed wrong," the President said with slight panic.

Shaking his head, Kiros reminded himself of the time Laguna wanted to call a national emergency when his secretary had shown up late. The man worried more than anyone else suspected, especially about those he cared for deeply. "I'm sure he's fine, maybe just a little stir crazy or lonely."

"I'm going to call Ward, ask him to look for anything out of the ordinary."

"Laguna, don't smother the kid. You'll run him off." While that didn't seem like such a bad idea, it was in the sense that didn't include the raven-haired President's heartbreak.

"But, he sounded different," Laguna stated with pleading eyes, as if asking permission to check up on his lover.

"Well, how often do you talk to him on the phone?"

Frowning, Laguna rolled his eyes as if to refute his friend's logic. "This was the first time, but that wasn't it."

Giving up, Kiros walked to the door. "Call Ward, but don't pester him."

"I won't." With a forced smile, Laguna waved his friend goodnight.

"Goodnight," Kiros said in departure.

Using the phone, Laguna dialed a stream of numbers before abruptly hanging up. Tossing the phone to the couch, he paced one way and then another. He couldn't remember where he'd put his little thingamajig, the one that let him type messages to Ward.

It was about ten minutes later before he found it, giving a cry of victory before recalling his urgency. Though the phone was just as capable, he was terrible at using the numbers to type words.

As it turned out, Ward hadn't even arrived at the estate yet. After requesting that his long time friend look for any suspicious behavior, he had nothing left to do but wait. So, with bated breath, Laguna paced his quarters while waiting for the thingamajig to do something when Ward sent him another message.

"Type something!" Laguna practically shouted at the small device, his words obviously not reaching the harpoon wielding man somewhere near his estate.

After an eternity of pacing, his leg cramping up, Laguna dove for the mini keyboard with a screen. Sighing in relief, Laguna read that nothing seemed particularly out of place.

Reassured that Squall was fine, likely just lonely as Kiros mentioned, Laguna felt like he could get some sleep that night. He'd find sleep knowing that Squall had his letters, reading about everything he couldn't express in their five-minute phone conversation. He'd tried to express everything that he'd kept inside over the past couple days, speaking a mile a minute the second Squall answered, but it'd become apparent that Squall sounded almost depressed in the occasional hums of agreement.

TBC…

Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait… it took me a while to think of where I wanted to take this. Anyway, I hoped you liked it. It's certainly a little faster paced than normal, but a lot is going on, so I didn't wanna drag it out forever.


	16. Chapter 16

Living with Heart

Act XVI

It was with a heavy heart that Squall scanned the compiled psyche evaluations. He could practically smell the fresh ink that was printed on crisp pages, the false dates of years past mocking him for being such a fool.

Tossing the files onto Cid's desk, Squall folded his hands in his lap. "So what led to my insatiable need for being fucked by older men? Was it my depression or my self destructive tendencies?"

"It was just another illness, a need to feel wanted," Cid said with a rub to tired eyes. "I have a cabinet full of just as many signed evaluations and police reports from your arrests."

"So, I wasn't even good at not getting caught?" Squall scoffed at the cover up. Nodding in understanding, he waited for whatever came next. There was little he could and nothing that would make things better.

Cid Kramer had years of experience under his belt. With so much time to set it all up, Squall was surprised that this was only now held over his head.

Staring blankly at the mahogany wood desk, an upgrade since the Headmaster's return, Squall continued to keep silent. He had nothing to say, not even a final word of protest. At the moment, his focus was on the burning ache in his chest. The letters in his jacket pocket felt as if the parchment were made of led, weighing heavily on his body.

"Your room is waiting for you," the older man said after the silence became too much. "This does end you know, I didn't bring you back to start anything again."

Squall stared. While it was some consolation to know things had changed, he was hardly grateful. Standing, he turned to leave.

"I am sorry Squall, even if you don't believe me."

Ignoring the Headmaster's sincere words, Squall continued to walk from the office. It wasn't until the elevator doors dinged closed that he knew where he intended to go.

As much as he was prone to keeping his problems to himself, he felt compelled to seek out the one person who understood what was going on.

----------

"That little shit," James cursed as he ended his search of Squall's rooms and concluded that the brunet was not there.

After sparring with the boy, it was very difficult to believe the room wouldn't have been torn up if someone had come in and taken the Balamb Lion. There were no signs of a struggle, nor were there any signs that anyone had entered or exited at all. There was only one door in and out, which he'd been stationed at. That meant Squall had left of his own accord.

The windows were an obvious escape, especially for a trained mercenary.

He couldn't help but repeat the mantra of one of the basic rules for becoming a guard, the voice of one prick of an instructor gruffly sounding in his head. 'You don't have to like who you guard, but they have to like you. You can't protect someone who doesn't want you around.'

Squall Leonhart didn't exactly need his protection, but it was still his duty to give it. Following the boy outside of Esthar was not what he was supposed to do, but out of loyalty to the President, he felt obliged to go above and beyond expectations… even if that made him a damn babysitter.

With the possibility of about a four-hour head start, he wasted no time in making the necessary calls to try and track the President's son down. Tarners Platform was the first likely place he'd find Squall, or at least a leading reference to how far the kid had gotten.

Given the time frame of the visit from Quistis Trepe, the threat made involving the boy's return to Balamb Garden, and the phone call that seemed to have shaken Squall up, he'd be a fool not to know where the boy was going to end up.

---------

With determination in his hazel green eyes, Laguna stormed into Kiros' office with one purpose in mind. Hoping to make a forceful entry, he attempted to push the door open quickly, but wound up falling inward as it was opened from the inside at the same time.

"Whoa!" the President cried as he crashed into his lanky advisor, grateful that one of them wasn't a klutz and managed to steady them both.

"Laguna," Kiros greeted with an odd mixture of concern and nervous edge.

Smiling sheepishly, the longhaired man straightened. "Sorry," he apologized. The next moment however, his expression hardened to a near scowl. Remembering why he was there, he stated firmly, "I'm going to see Squall."

Dark eyes stared at the determined man in dismay. "Lag-"

"No," Laguna cut off. "I don't care what you say. It's been three days since I last saw him and I haven't slept a wink. I won't stay long, maybe just have breakfast with him." Secretly he hoped to have a lot more than just breakfast, but he couldn't tell Kiros that for obvious reasons.

"Laguna," Kiros tried once more, attempting to capture the President's attention before he listened a longwinded rant about how much the raven-haired man needed Squall and loved the boy oh so dearly.

Stopping just before the beginning of his lecture on why love was so important, Laguna gazed at his friend expectantly. Mouth parted, he felt inclined to listening after detecting a slight note of urgency. Closing his mouth, he turned and glanced at the open door. "Where were you heading?" he questioned, feeling rising alarm at Kiros' inability to quickly speak. Kiros never hesitated to find the right words.

"I was on my way to find you," Kiros said at length. He silently cursed Squall for putting him in this situation. Worse yet was the possibility of what it all meant. The top possibility on his list was that the boy had left Laguna, which would surely break the kind man's heart and leave him to pick up the pieces.

"Well you found me," Laguna pointed out.

"Squall's gone," the dark skinned advisor all but blurted out. "Lieutenant Foler just called. The guard assigned as detail already left."

"Left where?" Laguna questioned with rising panic.

"To look for Squall," Kiros answered.

"How could this happen?"

Not wanting to express his views just yet, Kiros managed to keep the distain from his voice. "The boy's been trained. It's easy enough to leave when you have the codes to the gates and no one suspects anything."

"He left on his own?" Disbelieving eyes stared at the tall advisor, not willing to believe a scenario that didn't involve Squall being dragged off in an unconscious state. It was odd how he felt no form of relief over the lack of force used.

"Yes," Kiros stated firmly as if it were the only logical conclusion. "Laguna, I didn't want to say it, but this isn't exactly a surprise."

"What do you mean?" the President bit out defensively, immediately assuming his friend was insulting his lover.

"Nothing," the taller man copped out, unable to bash Squall for the obvious hurt it would do to Laguna.

"Do you have a problem with Squall?"

"Aside from the obvious issues?" Kiros questioned with a note of sarcasm.

"Yes, aside from the obvious issues. I'm not blind. I can see that you don't approve of my relationship with him."

Shaking his head, Kiros refuted the accusation. "I'd never disapprove when it makes you happy, but it's hard to ignore what he is and what's going on right now."

"Say what you mean," Laguna ordered, his anger getting the best of him. It wasn't so much anger toward Kiros as it was anger at the new trouble that had arisen. Why couldn't things have gone smoothly for once?

Taking a calming breath, Kiros shook his head. Stepping back, he turned and made his way back to his desk. Now that Laguna was there, there was no point in leaving.

"Where's Ward?" Laguna asked. "He was the last one to see Squall, maybe he knows something." Stalking over to his advisor's desk, he stood in a looming manner, forcing himself to be the focus of dark brown eyes.

Before Kiros could reply, a sharp knock came from the open doorway. Surprised, both men quickly shot looks toward the large man filling the entire doorframe. Ward gave a curt wave to the other two before entering.

"Squall?" Laguna questioned with panicked expectancy, as if the burly member of parliament could pull the boy out of his back pocket and declare it all some mistake.

Frowning, the ragged scar that traveled the side of his face contorting, Ward shook his head.

---------

"This is a pleasant surprise," Seifer greeted with a smirk. As his eyes raked Squall's form up and down, the pleasantness he found was obvious.

Scowling, Squall assured, "I didn't come here for that."

"Then enlighten me," the blond said as he moved out of the way, beckoning for the younger man to enter.

"Cid called me back," the brunet replied darkly.

Chuckling, Seifer stalked towards the kitchenette after relocking the automated door. "It's a sad day when Cid Kramer can outwit you. Either that old bastard is getting better or you're just no good once you've gone all soft and mushy."

Glaring at the man's retreating back, Squall chose to ignore the implications in that statement. "False documents that basically say that I'm some street whore and mentally insane are keeping me here," he informed with seething anger.

"Well, you are kind of a whore," Seifer called out. "Though, I imagine it's an insult to say you worked on the streets." Stepping back into view with a beer in both hands, he grinned in a manner that was both disarming and slightly comforting. "Your clients are certainly cleaner than most and a hell of a lot richer."

Wanting to lash out at the blond, Squall fought to remain silent. Extending his hand for the beer, he snatched it from the offered hand and shot the taller man a harsh glare. "I don't know what to do," he admitted grudgingly, his lips forced to form the words.

For a brief moment, jade green eyes stared in awed disbelief. Seifer failed to consider himself as being worthy of someone Squall would continually come to for help, regardless of all they'd been through together. The instance with Rinoa had been slightly different, a matter of needing an experienced knight, and he hadn't placed any stock in having a repeat of it.

"What does daddy dearest have to say?"

"…" Squall didn't want to think about how Laguna calculated into everything. He was at a loss just figuring out what to do with himself. He hated feeling lost, alone in the dark without a clue which direction would lead him to an exit. Worse yet was that for the first time, he'd thought things were going to be okay, that being with Laguna was going to work out.

"Oh fuck," Seifer cursed. Twisting the cap off his bottle, he bent it in his strong grasp before walking around to the couch and tossing it onto the coffee table. "You didn't even tell that bumbling fool," he stated without doubt.

"He's not a fool," Squall spoke evenly. With a sigh, he uncapped his beer and took a swig. A small popping smack sounded as his lips left the opening, which was indicative of his current need for alcohol and not his usual quiet manner of consumption.

Joining the former knight on the plain red couch, Squall began to doubt his decision to seek Seifer out despite already feeling mildly better. It was just nice to have someone who knew everything that was going on. It wouldn't be nice if anyone else knew, but one person seemed to be the right number.

"What are the odds of me getting a quickie out of this?" Seifer questioned bluntly. He laughed at the kick directed his way, easily blocking the halfhearted attempt. "Hey, I have needs here too. Rinoa won't shut up about getting married. Just before you came knocking, she hung up on me after I said I wasn't having any demon children with her."

"Give me a few more beers and I might consider it," Squall mumbled, smirking slightly at the unintended insult. In all honesty, he'd never needed to be drunk to sleep with Seifer. However, aside from his utter lack of sex drive at the moment, he was quite certain that being in a committed relationship meant not sleeping around.

Groaning in complaint, Seifer leaned over the single cushion that separated them. Ruffling thick chestnut hair, he chastised, "How can I screw your tight little ass when you give me that?"

Knocking the offending hand away, Squall sought another large sip of his beer. It was dark beer, not his preference, but he wasn't complaining.

In silence, Seifer backed off and let the former Commander drown his sorrows for the time being. He wasn't really in the mood for anything that night, especially if it involved coercing a depressed Squall into it.

After nearly ten minutes of unbroken silence, Squall stood up with an empty bottle in hand. Intent on getting another, willing to reimburse Seifer later, he was surprised at the large hand that grabbed his wrist.

"Before you get wasted, would you rather spar?"

Shaking his head, Squall tugged at the loosened grip and walked away. Though he couldn't remember a time when he wasn't up for a good fight, he was in no mood to pick up his blade.

Remaining awkwardly still for several moments, Seifer stared at the vacant spot beside him. Squally-boy not wanting to put in a little training or even just swing that blade around to relieve some frustration had never happened before.

Solemnly, the blond stood. The situation seemed more serious than he'd initially thought. Casually following the same path the brunet had, he leaned against the doorframe to the small kitchen. "You're in love with that guy aren't you?" Though he suspected long ago that Squall was serious about President Loire, he'd never imagined the abused lion would fall in love so quickly.

Straightening up from the open fridge, Squall quirked a brow at the odd reference of Laguna being just some 'guy'. "I'm just not in the mood to spar right now," he replied coolly.

"That doesn't answer my question," Seifer returned.

"Well it's a stupid question," Squall shot back, feeling rather embarrassed at such a pathetic dodging technique.

Scoffing, Seifer just shook his head. "Get me another one too before you come out," he requested before turning and walking back to the couch. His singles dorm room wasn't big, but it was good enough for him. A small kitchen, a little sitting area, a decent bedroom that fit more than just a narrow twin bed, and the greatest aspect was the personal bathroom. Making rank really paid off.

Squall grimaced at the tone the former knight used. Had he become so pathetic that even Seifer wouldn't stoop low enough to picking on him? Seifer found pleasure in making fun of ugly babies, which left him in a very sad category indeed.

Green eyes stared forward, even when the dark brown glass of his bottle was offered, held at the side of his resting head. Casting an upside down glance at the sulking brunet, he assured, "It's okay for guys like us to fall in love. Just because there are people like Rinny spouting off nonsense about it, that doesn't mean some of the shit ain't true."

"There's nothing fairytale about it," Squall mumbled, jostling the drink to make the blond take it.

Rolling his eyes, Seifer took the offering with a huff. "Of course there's nothing fairytale about it, he's your fucking dad for Hyne's sake. Still, all that love shit can be kind of real."

"Kind of real?" Squall repeated with sarcastic disbelief.

"Look, I'm no poet about it, but it's like this… Rinoa is a real whining sap most of the time. Beyond her good looks, I haven't a damn clue why I put up with her. I can honestly say that it must be love."

"You're her knight," Squall pointed out simply, his voice oddly indifferent despite the curious nature in which his eyes studied the man spouting off advice.

"Not for the time I spent with her in Esthar. I wanted to wring her little neck most of the time, but I still wound up taking the plunge with her."

Turning away, Squall thought about it. "It still wouldn't change anything," he said after a few moments of consideration.

"If you really love the poor fool, then you gotta tell him about your past eventually."

Shaking his head, Squall corrected, "He already knows everything."

Seifer resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, too afraid that it would make him more like his stoic rival. Reaching out, he smacked an unsuspecting brunet upside the head.

Jerking away, Squall glared venomously. "Do you have a death wish?" he questioned darkly, not at all above inflicting sever damage in return of something as minor as a small smack of the head.

"You're a fucking idiot, you know that?" Seifer accused hotly. "You come here all moping and get me all concerned, and then you tell me that your fuck buddy father already knows everything."

Frowning, Squall continued to glare without understanding what the problem was.

"Why the hell are you here?"

"…"

"You're unbelievable, you know that?" the blond said as he lurched forward and stood up. "Un-fucking-believable."

Mildly offended at that point, Squall glared while trying to understand what Seifer was getting at. He was inclined to think that the older boy was just being an ass as usual, but that didn't seem to fit the seriousness in which the blond was taking the situation.

Pacing behind the couch, Seifer kindly clued the oblivious brunet in on a few common sense details. "You're here because Kramer has leverage on you. The only reason it's leverage is because he could threaten to let your latest boyfriend about it… if your boyfriend already knows, then why the hell are you even here?" He spoke slowly, purposely rubbing in that it was a very simple matter that was easy to comprehend.

Angry and resentful of being talked down to, Squall coldly glared while waiting for the ex-knight to finish his condescending speech. "Cid is threatening to tell Quistis and the others. This has nothing to do with Laguna, Cid doesn't even know about that."

"And you came here just because your friends would find out?"

"…"

"I knew you never wanted them to know, but come on Squally-boy, this is just sad. Who cares if they know? You'll be all the way in Esthar."

"You don't understand," Squall hissed defensively. "They can't know."

Shaking his head, Seifer tried to sympathize, but found he just couldn't put himself in the boy's shoes. "They're big kids now."

"It's not about that," Squall said, unable to express exactly why he felt so adamant about them never finding out. He'd promised himself long ago, when he first began to understand what was so wrong about it all, that he'd never let others find out.

After watching grey-blue eyes fall to stare at the floor, a hollowness in them that gave him a vague remembrance of a similar time before. "You're still this ashamed?" he questioned gently.

With a sardonic expression, Squall shifted in place to better look over the back of the couch. "What else am I supposed to be? Should I be proud about it?"

"No," Seifer said with a nod of understanding. "But, at this rate, you'll always be that little boy who bawled in my arms when I finally wore you down and made you tell me everything."

"I never cried," Squall defended.

Chuckling, Seifer grinned at the edgy tone. "You wanted to," he stated with unhidden amusement.

"But I never did."

"True enough," the blond conceded.

"I told Cid I'd never tell anyone, but I guess that makes me a fool for even trying."

"Not a fool," Seifer said. "Just desperate."

With a nod of agreement, Squall locked onto the blond's intense green eyes. "I am in love with him… my own father."

"It's completely fucked up, but it seems to suit you just fine," Seifer said with unbiased humor. For a silent moment, the ex-knight steeled himself for what he was about to do. After that night, he was afraid he'd have to consider Squall more of a friend than a rival, which could seriously hurt his reputation. "If I do you a favor, then I get as many blowjobs as I want for the rest of my life."

Scowling, Squall questioned, "And what sort of favor could you do?"

"I might just know a guy who knows a guy and so forth. If you give me a couple days, I might just be able to dig up a little dirt on Cid and some of your well to do customers."

Surprised, Squall's face became a neutral mask while his eyes stared with a glint of hopefulness. "What exactly do you have in mind?"

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you." With a wide grin, Seifer handed his beer off. "Drink up, I'll be back later."

Awed and shocked, Squall remained motionless on the couch. Was Seifer serious?

"You can thank me later," the blond said as he shrugged into his long grey trench coat. "I'm serious about those BJs. If I call you at one in the morning and you're in the middle of getting screwed by your old man, I expect you to come all the way back here just to go down on me."

Lips parted as if to speak, Squall kept his silence and simply watched as his rival made a hasty exit. He didn't know what to think. If anyone could manage to obtain proof of anything, Seifer was probably the best candidate.

Considering he wouldn't be able to make a single phone call without being monitored within Garden, and that his friends were probably being watched as well, someone such as his rival didn't seem very likely to go around asking questions for his sake.

---------

Helpless in his aching worry, Laguna paced his office restlessly. While he understood that he couldn't go riding off on a white horse to try and bring Squall back, he would have done so if he weren't under surveillance.

At the thought shattering ring of the telephone, the President practically lunged across the room and onto his desk to answer it.

"Hello!" he spoke a bit loudly in his over zealous anxiousness. "Squall? Lieutenant?"

"Mr. President," Lieutenant Foler greeted. "Garrison is currently outside of Balamb Garden. Eye witness reports place your son at the train station less than six hours ago."

"Is he okay, is he safe?" Laguna asked quickly, his voice nearly cracking as he spoke with a lump in his throat. Tears threatened to come as his need to know what was going on and to have Squall safely in his arms became too much.

"As of yet, we remain uninformed on the circumstances of your son's presence in Balamb Garden. Garrison is capable and determined to resolve this quickly and quietly. I understand the need to bring the boy back without a hitch under the precarious suits with the adoption."

Swallowing thickly, Laguna nodded his understanding before adding the necessary vocal reply. "Thank you Lieutenant. I await your next call. Please keep me informed of any changes."

"Yes sir, Mr. President."

Hanging the phone up, Laguna felt his legs go weak. Seeking the aid of his chair, he collapsed into the cushioned leather seat. Staring off blankly for several long moments, hazel green eyes eventually became blurred with unshed tears.

Foremost in his mind was Squall's safety. Yet, there was a nagging worry apart from his lover's well being. Kiros words had become progressively clearer the more he thought about it.

He never doubted his best friends over anything, which is why the assumptions Kiros was under hurt so much. To think that Squall had left because he was finished using him was the most painful scenario he could possibly imagine, apart from his lover's death.

He wanted to trust the boy, but facts couldn't be denied. Squall had left willingly. Not only that, but after so much talk about never wanting to return to Garden, that was exactly where the former Commander had gone. Back to Cid Kramer, back to where the poor boy had always gone after having relations with persons of political power and money.

Perhaps he was in the same boat as all those other perverted men, hopelessly in love with an untamable lion who had flawlessly pulled the veil over his love-struck eyes.

Slamming a fist down on his desk, Laguna grit his teeth at the idea that none of it had meant anything. The only person he could accept the truth from was Squall. He'd get Squall back and even if it turned out that it was all a lie, and he'd do his damnedest to keep the boy there. He couldn't let go, not ever.

There was a sick lurching his stomach as he realized he'd pay any amount or even relinquish his title as President. Squall was a dangerous creature of beauty and sensuality, ensnaring him so completely that he'd do anything to have him back.

-----------

"You're Leonhart's shadow, aren't you?" Seifer questioned evenly as he casually took a shot of whiskey.

"Where is he?" James questioned as he slid into place, sitting on a stool beside Ultimecia's former knight.

"I'm meeting someone here, I suggest you not scare them off if you intend to retrieve the President's only kid."

"I'll decide what to do after you tell me what's going on," the sandy blond guard returned after flagging the bartender. "I'll have what he's having," he said with a nod to the young man of decent stature at his side.

Tutting, Seifer nudged his shot glass forward in request of another. "Drinking on the job," he said disapprovingly. "No wonder Leonhart evaded you so easily."

Waiting for the bartender to finish pouring their shots, James began to miss the quiet and the non-antagonistic nature of his dark haired charge. Though too silent, at least he didn't feel like wringing Squall's neck after only a few minutes of being in his presence.

Ignoring the ordered drink, not intending on actually consuming it, the older man gruffly questioned, "Where is he?"

"You followed me all the way to Deling City, obviously assuming I know something, yet you don't know where Leonhart is?"

"I have not seen him for myself," the bodyguard stated simply.

"Nor will you," Seifer assured with a grin. "He's not around here," he explained with amusement.

"Don't play games boy. Whatever contact you're meeting can be easily scared away." Finding that it would likely take far longer than expected, James lifted his shot and downed it easily. He couldn't risk appearing out of place.

"My contact involves a business that should prove beneficial to Loire's son, so I suggest you not fuck it up." The blond knight's tone was both light and threatening, an odd mixture suggesting that the young man hardly needed harsh words to assure anyone of his seriousness.

"Is he at Balamb Garden? Is he safe? Tell me that much," James insisted, knowing it was the President's greatest wish to have the boy back, but a close second was at least knowing Squall was safe and unharmed.

"He's probably drunk and killing my liquor stash, but aside from alcohol poisoning, he's right as rain."

"What are you doing here? Who are you meeting? And how does it help Squall?" James questioned with a cool tone, rationally seeking information as if it were any other interrogation.

Scoffing at the older man's presumptuous tone, as if he'd automatically start spilling everything, he replied, "I'm drinking here and that's all you need to know."

"If I'm not assured of whether you are a danger to my charge, make no mistake that I will blow your cover and not rest until my job is finished. There are other ways of finding what I need."

Green eyes narrowing, Seifer dared a sidelong glance at the sandy blond man. With a broad form that would give Raijin a run for his money, dark eyes of near black stared resolutely at him. The world was filled with annoying pricks that wouldn't back down. While he could have waited all night, he was pressed for time and rather reluctant to not pull through for Squall.

"Buy me a beer, Dollet's dark brew, and then we'll talk," Seifer ordered.

With waning patience, James once again flagged the bartender away from the growing crowd all along the bar. Most people were coming and going, two men sitting for a more permanent stay going unnoticed.

"Find a table for three," Seifer said quietly once the beer had been delivered and the older man had set down the appropriate amount of gil. He felt confident that he didn't have to express the need for a secluded table, away from prying ears and bright light.

Alone again, it was some time later that a nervous hand tapped the ex-knight on the shoulder. Immediately Seifer turned, green eyes scanning the busy bar to place Squall's bodyguard before settling on his guest. With an assuring grin and firm nod, he said, "We have one extra for tonight. I don't know how much he knows, but he's on Squall's side."

Nervously, rusty brown eyes glanced about, none too subtly searching for the so-called extra. "Do you trust him?" came the whispered question.

"In this matter, he's not going away either way. But, I trust him enough. He's working for President Loire, his name is James Garrison." Standing, Seifer casually walked away and parted the crowd for his guest to follow.

Curious dark brown eyes watched at a portly person dressed in a long trench coat and bowler shaped hat approached, a face downcast and in shadow. It was quite apparent that the knight's supposed contact was not trained in subtlety.

Pushing the beer over to the edge of the small square table, James waited for the two to take their seats.

"I don't like the idea of speaking with total strangers," a soft voice stated before a hand was offered in greeting.

Leaning forward, James clasped the hand, feeling the skin that was far from roughened like a soldiers. Getting a good look at the person's face for the first time, he was mildly surprised to find it a middle-aged woman whose eyes were painfully burdened with obvious knowledge.

"James Garrison," the guard spoke in introduction, curiously casting a glance to the all-knowing blond knight.

"I'm Milla Kadowaki, resident doctor at Balamb Garden," the woman stated quietly as she shifted to sit more comfortably.

"What is this about?" James questioned solemnly, staring into secretive green eyes, wondering just how much he didn't know.

"This, you persistent thorn in my side, is about blackmail," Seifer said with a smirk as he directed his remark to the guard.

Nervous hands unbuttoned the suspiciously done up coat before reaching inside. Carefully, Dr. Kadowaki withdrew a manila envelope. "I thought I'd seen the end of it when I spoke with Mr. Seagill not that long ago. He never promised to do anything, but it was certainly implied."

"Never assume anything," Seifer chastised lightly.

Heaving a nervous sigh, the older woman admitted, "I shouldn't be so frightened of this. After all these years, being fired isn't much of a threat anymore. I originally only worried about being nearby to help him, but it never did any good."

"He's perfectly fine," Seifer assured with confidence.

Shaking her head, the doctor disagreed. "He's never been fine. That poor boy." With a hand going to her mouth, she took calming breaths to fight back her overwhelming guilt of never taking an active hand sooner. "There are pictures and several DNA tests, but it's all just samples of unknown men. I can't prove the identities of his partners, except for Norg."

Calmly, James ignored his utter confusion and decided to hear what he could before asking questions.

Once assured that he wouldn't be interrupted every two seconds by a confused guard, Seifer stated, "The Headmaster has these reports that peg him for a street whore. If we don't have proof of who he's been with, then your files will only support Kramer's."

Scowling with silent fury, Kadowaki glanced at each face present. "I loathe that man to my very core," she stated with pursed lips.

Considering the declaration of hatred did nothing to help, Seifer ignored it. "Do you have any friends, any colleagues that could evaluate Squall, maybe do some whacko hypnosis shit and prove what really happened?"

"Confessions under hypnosis wouldn't hold up in court, and I imagine Cid knows that," Kadowaki commented.

Thoughtfully tapping his fingers on the worn wooden table, Seifer carefully examined the situations and sought different roads they might explore. Frowning, he scratched the back of his neck before speaking, "That time I went to Dollet for him, the staff of that house seemed to know exactly what was going on. There have to be witnesses that are keeping quiet."

"We'd never find them," Kadowaki stated with an air of desperation.

Not knowing the details, James input, "If you need proof and don't have any on past incidents, the most logical thing to do is set up another exchange and get it then."

"Do you even know what we're talking about?" Seifer shot angrily, annoyed that the guard would interrupt without knowing everything. Worse yet was that it was a solid idea.

"I can wager a guess," James said firmly, sickeningly suspicious of what they were talking about.

Shaking his head, Seifer silently vowed to use Squall's talented mouth every chance he got. This was almost more trouble than it'd be worth. If he didn't need his rival's pansy ass in top shape for sparring on occasion, he'd have ignored the younger man's plight.

TBC…

A/N Grins Long wait for an update, sorry. While I promise you that I will finish this story, my main focus is Strings Attached. The updates are not going to be as frequent as they are for SA. I don't know which one I'll end up finishing first, since I'm not sure how long this story will be. Well, I hope you liked it. Now you see why Cid could make his threats… he's not a stupid man, and Squall knew that. Next chapter will give some insight about where Quistis and the others are as far as digging up the past goes.


	17. Chapter 17

Living with Heart

Act XVII

Rushed foot steps sounded, the quick succession of clicking thuds echoing through the empty hall. Zell was running back to his dorm room, arms hugging a large brown bag. Charged with the assignment of bringing everyone dinner, he'd carried his mission out with the utmost care. However, he hurried to return after chancing to glance up at the right moment and witness Squall walking past the cafeteria's entrance, suspiciously not headed towards the training center.

Finally making it back, he knocked on his own door and anxiously hopped from foot to foot.

"Doors open!" Selphie cried from within.

"What!" Zell raged, thumbing the button to open the door harshly. "Is that your sense of security?" he cried in protest.

"Zell, keep your voice down. Hyne, do you want the whole dormitory to hear you talking like that?" Selphie reprimanded.

"You couldn't at least lock it? What if someone just walked right in?"

"Don't kid yourself, no one's going to visit you," Irvine drawled with a playful smirk. "Besides, it's suspicious if you're standing outside of your own room waiting to be let in. Next time, don't be so obvious."

Zell's gait immediately lost its usual bounce. Aside from his short temper, he was especially susceptible to remarks about being a loud mouth. It had never really mattered much until his slip up on the mission in Timber. Now it was like an open wound. "Jerk," he muttered, all but chucking the foil wrapped sandwich at the gunman's head after taking it out of the bag.

"Irvy, play nice," Selphie chastised, grinning merrily when her own meal was gently offered to her.

"You guys, let's focus," Quistis said, trying to capture everyone's attention.

"Oh!" Zell exclaimed, energy flowing once more. "I saw Squall!"

"What?" Quistis questioned with a look of worried concern. "When? Where?" she quickly followed up, trying to remain calm about it. It didn't help them in figuring out what was going on if things started to change all of a sudden. Squall being back was normal in a sense, and normalcy could threaten to cover everything up.

"He was just walking by, near the fountain. I only saw him for a second. I was in line getting the grub," the spiky haired boxer answered as best he could without fidgeting under the piercing gaze of crystal blue eyes.

"He didn't say hi?" Selphie questioned with a pout.

"I doubt he saw me," Zell explained. "It really was only for a moment, but I swear it was him. I might have been running on an empty stomach, but I didn't even hallucinate after ten days without hot dogs during Irvine's bet."

Arms crossing and brows furrowing in thought, the Head Instructor tried to conceive a scenario where Squall might return after such adamant proclamations of not doing so. "Did you see where he was going?" she questioned further, slipping into interrogation mode despite speaking to Zell.

"The infirmary, maybe," Zell offered uncertainly.

"Was he hurt?" Irvine drawled with a note of concern.

"Not that I could tell, but he was walking that way. He could have gone anywhere really, but all I remember is thinking that it was weird to see him not heading to the training center for once."

"That is weird," Selphie commented in support of the boxer's observation.

Sandwich untouched, Irvine sat up from his relaxed position on the couch. Turning his focus to the levelheaded blonde instructor, he suggested, "Perhaps we should go straight to the source. It's likely he'll be more talkative if we tell him we know something's up."

Shaking her head, Quistis returned, "I don't think so. Squall can be terribly stubborn about personal matters. I can almost guarantee that he'll just give us the silent treatment all night."

"We could follow him," Selphie suggested, already excited to volunteer for the job.

------

Pining and wallowing in his own world of lonely misery, Laguna returned to the Estate despite the obvious reminder its vacant halls held. Sluggishly dragging his feet along the marble flooring, not caring how childish he was being, he slowly made his way towards Squall's quarters.

Silently following as always, Thomas simply watched with a mixture of pity and concern.

Eyes fixed on the clean white floor, occasional squares of green marble coming into view every few steps or so, Laguna became lost three times before his guard took the lead and brought him to his son's rooms without having to question where he'd originally intended to go.

After a long day of mind numbing reading and ulcer inducing worry, he was ready to collapse on any surface remotely resembling a mattress and just sleep. Eventually managing to at least take his shoes and tie off, he crawled into the neatly made bed. Left as it was upon his orders, it still appeared as though Mr. Portier had sent someone to remake it. However, he knew that wasn't true when he inhaled the sandalwood scent that lingered on the pillow. He imagined that while the bedding was unused from Squall's last night, that the boy's head has rested on the pillows enough to leave a faint scent.

Closing his eyes with a soft groan, he lay motionless in the bed that was too large for just him and cold without Squall's body pressed close. He needed Squall, and while the boy was no longer at his side he felt lifeless. The special lattes he used to live for every morning he arrived at the office were suddenly miles away from being a highlight in his life. The extravagant meals, the new releases of his favorite comic books, movie nights with Ward and Kiros, poker with his secretary when she promised not to tell anyone he was slacking—none of it seemed the least bit appealing when it used to keep a perpetual smile on his face.

As a man, he was hopelessly in love and in need of the holder of his affection. As the President, he couldn't let it affect his job or cause him to send an army to Balamb Garden to bring Squall back. Lucky for him, Kiros and Ward were by his side to make sure he didn't do anything out of blind love.

It hadn't even been a whole twenty-four hours, yet he felt like he'd spent the last five years in a pathetic depression. Somehow, it was easier to not see Squall for the past couple days when he'd known the boy was relatively close by, at least on the same continent.

Laguna wanted to cry. He'd felt on the verge of tears several times throughout the day, but every time he'd picture Squall's cute scowling face and terse words of reprimand for crying too much. He'd sell his soul just to hear the brunet call his name out during orgasm one more time. It was such a beautiful sound, his name spilling from plush lips during such an intimate and unguarded moment.

"Squall," the raven-haired man called out, his voice muffled by the pillow pressed against his face.

"Mr. President," came the distant call from outside the bedroom.

Sitting up, Laguna glanced toward the door. "What is it?"

"There is a phone call for you sir. It's the knight Almasy," Thomas informed, obediently waiting for a response.

Blinking and staring for a few moments, Laguna nearly fell flat on his face in the scramble to hop of the bed and get to the phone.

"Hello?" the President greeted frantically after snatching the cell phone from his guard's proffering hand.

"Well don't you sound needy?" the ex-knight's deep voice lilted on the other end.

"This is about Squall, isn't it? What do you know? Is he okay?" Laguna questioned as he began to pace, eyes glancing up at the sound of the door shutting.

There was a heavy sigh on Seifer's end. "I was afraid a man of your age would have a heart attack stressing over it, so I wanted to call. Leonhart is fine."

"Is he there? Can I talk him?"

"No," Seifer stated, not clarifying which question his answer went to. "Don't do something stupid like declaring war. I got your man James here and we'll have your son back in your bed soon enough."

"What's going on?" Laguna pressed earnestly.

Completely ignoring the question, Seifer congratulated the older man. "Congrats by the way. I wasn't sure how someone like you would stand against Leonhart, but I'm glad you listened to my advice."

Tripping over his own feet, Laguna met the floor with a thud. Cursing, he looked around for the phone he'd dropped. Nerves shot, he attempted to pick it up four times before succeeding. "Are you still there?" he questioned firstly.

"Uh, yeah," Seifer replied, not sure if he'd make the man cry if he burst out laughing. Somehow he was slightly miffed that Squally-boy fell in love with such a bumbling klutz and never once looked at him with a flicker of anything deeper than lust.

"Sorry, I dropped the phone. What'd you say about advice?"

"Never mind," the blond said, feeling as though the fun was suddenly taken from the conversation when the President was so completely consumed by humor's number one killer—worry.

"He's definitely okay?" Laguna questioned as he shifted to sit more steadily on the carpeted floor.

"A little depressed, but it's hard to tell the difference."

"What's going on? He left without telling me. Why is he back at Garden? What is Cid making him do?" The last question was issued in a near growl, a tone of anger most unbecoming for the Estharian President.

"Nothing illicit," Seifer offered reasonably. "I won't get into details, that's not my job. This is just a courtesy call."

"Fuck your courtesy call!" Laguna raged, losing all consideration for the fact that Seifer seemed to be on his side. "I want to talk to him, just let me hear his voice."

Gruffly laughing, Seifer kindly informed, "I'm not in Balamb, but if you like, I could make the two hour trip back just so you can say a few words."

Eyes scrunched shut as he swallowed what anger had arisen, Laguna apologized, "No, I'm sorry. I'm just upset, I didn't mean to yell."

"If you can manage not to run that country of yours into the ground, then I can manage to return the playboy bunny."

"Can you tell me why he's there? Is there anything I can do?"

"It's just a little blackmail, no biggie," Seifer assured, his confidence perhaps having the opposite effect.

"Blackmail?" Laguna exclaimed, wondering how that worked when commonsense seemed to settle the use of blackmail in Squall's favor.

"Ah shit," Seifer's voice sounded, slightly distant as if away from the phone. "Listen Loire, I gotta go or I'll miss my train. If I get a chance, I'll have the bunny give you a call."

Before Laguna could reply or ask any more questions, the other end went dead with a click. Sighing in frustration, he fought the urge to throw the phone across the room. Snapping it shut, he debated keeping it with him, but determined that it wasn't his phone and returned it to a slightly surprised guard just outside the door.

------

"He looks so lonely," Selphie murmured. Bright green eyes peered over the edge of the fountain, gazing across shallow pool of rippling water.

A safe distance away with pouring water to mask any noise, Irvine and Selphie crouched low and watched as their former Commander sat on a stone bench and stared intently at a cell phone. It had been like that for the past ten minutes. Squall was just sitting and staring, not making any attempt at the call he obviously wanted to make. Weirder yet was that this was the first time they'd been able to catch sight of him. It was to their ultimate shock that Squall had exited from Seifer's quarters after an entire day of making no appearance.

"Who do you think he wants to call?" Irvine wondered aloud, knowingly reading the lovesick expression even from such a distance. If the slightly uneven steps they'd seen the young man take earlier were any indication, then he'd say Squall was also drunk, which might explain why Lionheart was nowhere to be seen and why the training center was off limits.

With the tip of her tongue sticking out as the cogs spun in her head, Selphie suggested, "Rinoa maybe. Quisty told me that when a knight gives up his bond he becomes super sad and will do almost anything to get his sorceress back."

"Then why doesn't he call?" Irvine returned, not quite believing that Rinoa was the face swimming in Squall's head at the moment.

"I dunno," Selphie supplied. "He was in Seifer's apartment, right? Maybe he doesn't want to get in Seifer's way. He'd be like a hypocrite or something if he asked for her back."

"If it was about not being a knight anymore, then Quistis would have brought it up earlier. I don't think that's it Darlin'. I think it might be President Loire." From the disturbingly intimate hug they'd seen, to Quistis' recounting of how Squall wanted to stay in Esthar with Laguna. It seemed to fit despite his senses screaming that Squall was thinking about a lover.

"Sir Laguna?" Selphie inquired with uncertainty. "If it's his dad, then why not just call?"

"Isn't it the middle of the workday in Esthar? President Loire is a busy man, and you know Squall. He'll sit there for another eight hours until it's most convenient for the President."

Whimpering quietly, Selphie's hands grasped the outer edge of the fountain. Squirming in place, she declared, "I wanna give him a hug, a great big one."

"Darlin'," Irvine drawled in warning, a hand reaching out to grasp his little lady's arm. "We're on a stake out, not a cheer mission."

"But Irvy, he looks so sad. I can't just stay here and watch while he's about to cry."

"He's not about to cry," Irvine assured, willing to bet Exeter on it. The Ice Prince couldn't cry because it was impossible to shed tears that were frozen. Then again, the Ice Prince also never drank to escape reality or stared at a phone with pining indecision. He might just have to bet something less valuable than his most cherished weapon.

"Duck," Selphie hissed, silently shuffling to flatten below the three-foot high rim.

Violet eyes had enough time to catch sight of a red sweater vest before losing all visual. Though not speaking aloud, he met Selphie's gaze and they both seemed to share a moment to question why the Headmaster was walking around that part of Garden at such an hour. It wasn't necessarily late, but 'lights out' was at nine and Cid Kramer made a habit of enforcing rules by following them. Odder still was that the Headmaster's quarters were stationed in a completely different area and there was no reason for the man to be wandering towards the boys' dormitory.

For Irvine and Selphie, it was obvious that the Headmaster was there to see Squall, but they still hadn't a clue why.

Once certain that the older man was indeed headed towards Squall, they resumed their positions and watched the scene unfold. It occurred to Selphie, after she watched Squall quickly pocket the cell phone and turn to intercept Cid's approach, that it might be nice to hear the words exchanged.

Motioning to the gunman, the copper-haired woman slowly took crouching steps in her suede boots and sidled along the circumference of the fountain to edge closer to Squall. Being that they were nearly on the opposite side, it was a given that they'd miss part of what was being said.

Violet eyes darted back and forth between Squall and Cid. With the pale brunet's back to them, he couldn't reach any emotion, but the stiff nature of narrow shoulders told him a lot. He was perceptive in reading emotions, or the lack thereof in the people such as Squall. The Headmaster seemed torn about something, lips pressed together with unspoken words and brows drawn in mild anguish.

Before they could meet their marker, the elevated voice of Squall reached their ears. It was as Cid reached out and the former Commander reacted rather violently, smacking the Headmaster's hand away and declaring, "Don't touch me!"

Selphie stopped her edging movements, awing at such an extreme reaction. It was beyond rare to see Squall that angry even with Seifer.

"Keep going Darlin'," Irvine urged, nudging the small woman in the side.

Slowly, the muttered words became distinct and clear enough to be deciphered over the sound of pouring water. Unfortunately, it was a trade off of audio and video. At an adjacent bench to the one that Cid and Squall stood before, the edge of the fountain rose higher and they just couldn't risk being seen.

"Squall, it has to be this way," the Headmaster placated.

"No, it doesn't," Squall hissed in return.

"I'd be a fool to have it any other way, you know that," the older man reasoned.

Scoffing, Squall's icy voice questioned with lacing malice, "Are you seeking my forgiveness?"

"I could never ask for that, no matter how much I want it. I'm asking for your cooperation. You've been here for more than a day and people are already starting to talk. I don't want trouble. If you don't want to work as SeeD, that's fine, but don't go around acting like some prisoner that's kept in his room all day."

There was a long pause before the Headmaster spoke again. "Don't give me that look. I know what I've done, but don't blame everything on me. If you'd refused at any time, I would have listened."

"I'm not so pathetic as to dwell on the past," Squall returned in a low tone, dangerously cold.

"Then why are you so miserable here? Is it so terrible to settle down as a normal SeeD or have you secretly enjoyed the way things were? If that's the case, I have a stack of requests a mile high."

The sound of Squall laughing was unexpected as much as it was disturbing. The laughter was more like a hollow echo the filtered through the entire center quad. It sent a child down Selphie's spine and caused Irvine to swallow reflexively, hand itching to grasp his gun.

"Goodnight Cid," Squall murmured, his footsteps informing the spying duo of the Balamb Lion's departure.

"Wait," the Headmaster ordered firmly. "Xu told me you've been staying in Seifer's room. He's been missing since yesterday, right after you arrived. If you're planning something, I'll warn you right now that it won't just be Quistis and the others that will find out the truth. The media catching wind won't harm my institution, only strengthen it with the effort that went behind the attempt to correct you."

"You say that as though what you have to show others is the actual truth. Don't delude yourself Cid, you might actually start to believe the lies."

"As far as anyone other than you is concerned, the files I have are the truth Squall. Be careful how far you push me, you'll find I'm not a tolerant man."

"Seifer went to see Rinoa in Timber, call her if you'd like to verify that. He let me take his room because mine is empty," the words were forced, as if Squall didn't want to be giving excuses because it meant being compliant and answering the Headmaster's questions.

"And you went to Seifer of all people?" Cid questioned, trying to sniff out any lies.

"We're closer than you think," Squall supplied. "He'll be back tomorrow. I'll be staying in my own room then."

"I'd like you to make an appearance at breakfast, eat with the other instructors and kill off all rumors. Also, try to stick to your normal routine. Go to the training center and act a little happy about being back."

"Act, huh? I'm good at that."

"Indeed," the Headmaster agreed darkly.

"Are we done?" Squall muttered with contempt.

"For now," Cid returned.

There was a long moment of silence where Irvine half wondered if Squall had left. However, the Ice Prince's voice sounded once again in a reiterated hiss, "I said don't touch me!"

"You're being unreasonable," the Headmaster reprimanded.

"And you're being unfaithful," the younger man returned.

"I've never dared to do anything to you. Why do you act as though my touch brings death?"

"It's in your eyes Cid. Don't start looking at me like that now."

"I look at you the same as always. Perhaps it's my disappointment in what you've done."

With a dry scoff, Squall spoke sardonically, "And I suppose it was also disappointment I saw in Norg's eyes."

Selphie jumped at the sound of hard knuckles echoing a harsh slap. She felt like crying. She was so confused. The Headmaster was acting mean and so was Squall. She wanted to run out there and stop it, but she couldn't. There were so many implications in what they'd heard and so many ways to construe it all, yet none of it made any sense.

Irvine was in awe at the dry laughter that issued from Squall once more. To think Cid had hit Squall and that Squall had allowed it. No amount of alcohol could inebriate the former Commander's reflexes that much, which meant the action had made its mark with the help of both men.

"Don't you dare compare me to that creature. I raised you, always kept you safe. I'm not perfect and there were times when you did get hurt, but I've never laid a hand on you."

"So why start now?" Squall questioned evenly, his voice dead.

"You've always followed orders without any insubordination. What happened in Esthar to make you this way?"

"You took Shiva away, that's what happened."

"Then you remember everything?" Cid remarked in disbelief. "I knew the memory suppression wasn't permanent, but I didn't think it'd come back so quickly. I'm sorry Squall."

"Whatever."

"Wait, Squall!" Cid called out, his voice almost desperate. "Come with me, we can have Shiva junctioned again."

"No," Squall turned down flatly.

"Don't walk away from me."

"I'm going to bed. Stop stalling. If you want a bedmate, call Edea."

The silence that followed had an air of finality.

Selphie scrunched her eyes closed and willed Cid to backtrack and not stumble upon her and Irvine. At the sound of the Headmaster's retreating footsteps, she opened her eyes and glanced at a blanched gunman.

"Do you think they're gone?" Selphie questioned, her voice barely a whisper.

"I've got a bad feeling about all this Darlin'," Irvine murmured in reply. "Let's go wake Quistis. This might be more serious than we thought."

"What was all that about?" the copper-haired woman muttered to herself. "I've never seen Squall or Cid to act like that. They were angry at each other." With a sniff, she swiped a frustrated hand over her eyes. The sudden realization that her happy world in Garden was hardly a paradise hurt. She felt like everything had just shattered, as though she'd been fooled into believing what wasn't real.

"Hey," the gunman cooed, gently wrapping an arm around the small woman. "It's okay," he soothed, consoling the tearful bundle that held no trace of cheerful energy.

TBC…

Author's Note: Wow, sorry for the long wait. This is now my number one focus, so expect updates every couple days. School has started, so I am more pressed for time, but this story is reaching a climax, so there won't actually be that many more chapters.

I was hard pressed to write the conversation between Cid and Squall without giving any incite into their characters. Squall was obviously more talkative than usual, but he was also drunk and going on his fifth day of not seeing Laguna. In short, he was rather irritable and willing to voice that irritation, especially towards Cid.

If you're holding your breath for everyone to find out about Squall, I suggest you start breathing again before you pass out. I have no intention of letting the orphanage gang sniff out the whole truth. Sorry, but that's been my agenda from the start.


	18. Chapter 18

Living with Heart

Act XVIII

Hung over with only three hours of sleep added into the mix, Squall mumbled a sleepy groan at the feel of strong arms wrapping around his waist. Taking a deep breath, his body deciding to wake up, he reached a blind hand over his shoulder. Lethargically petting the head nuzzling his neck, it took him a moment to realize that his fingers weren't grasping long silky strands but short tufts that felt stiff with gel.

"What do I get for returning another man's treasure?" Seifer's deep voice rumbled in the younger man's ear.

Squall let his arm flop back down to the bed. "Seifer," he greeted, disappointment apparent in his tone.

"Expecting Daddy dearest?" the knight mocked.

Rubbing his eyes, the brunet shifted to lie on his back. "What's the verdict?"

Humming contently, the blond eventually spoke, "I think my secret stash has been cleaned out. I knew I should have given you explicit orders not to touch it."

A small smirk ghosted Squall's lips. "Sorry," he murmured sleepily. "If it's any consolation, my head is pounding."

Chuckling, Seifer informed, "I have every intention of making your morning hell."

"…" Squall didn't doubt the knight would speak loudly, turn on every light, and hide every source of relief he might seek.

"I debated pouring water over you, but then I realized you're in my bed."

Shaking his head, hair rubbing against the pillow, Squall agreed that it would have been a bad idea.

"First, you're going to make me breakfast, a big ass feast. Then, you're going to sober up and join me in the training center."

Nodding his understanding, Squall sat up with a painful groan, a hand holding his forehead. He cursed unintelligibly, his annoyance split between his idiocy at drinking too much and the uselessness of potions on hangovers.

"Don't get confused about any of this Leonhart," Seifer grumbled as he too sat up. "This doesn't mean I like you, it just makes us even."

"Even?" the brunet questioned.

"Rinoa may be a royal princess, but it's nothing I can't handle. Coming to Esthar, taking her off your hands, none of that shit was any skin off my back. I don't like outstanding debts, and this is my payment."

"Nnh," Squall intoned, accepting such terms easily. It was better than admitting that Seifer was really going out there for him and that it would have made them something more akin to close friends than either of them would have liked. Any friendship between them was strictly ignored.

"I'll tell you about my amazing skills when I'm eating."

Taking that as his cue to get started, Squall slowly crawled out of the bed. "What time is it?" he questioned at the door.

"Too early for me to be up. Call me when it's ready," Seifer returned, stealing the vacant spot Squall had left and pulling the covers up despite being fully dressed.

Glaring at the knight's form, Squall left the room.

------

Taking the opportunity presented while Selphie left to use the bathroom, Irvine leaned closer towards the instructor seated across from him. "Give me access to Balamb's records and let me see what I can find."

Not replying right away, Quistis shifted in the armchair, picking non-existent lint off her baggy pajama bottoms. Woken unexpectedly, she hardly cared about keeping up appearances in front of Irvine and Selphie, but she hadn't quite woken completely. "What do you have in mind?" she questioned, not willing to disclose the necessary codes unless it was something she was certain couldn't be done by herself.

"No offense, but this is my department of expertise. Let me check his files and see what I can come up with on my own."

"Irvine, something like that…" the Head Instructor began, trailing off with indecision. Adjusting her wire rimmed glasses, she rephrased her concerns. "You do realize that there are certain boundaries, don't you?"

"I think we crossed the line when I went in and reported that I was unable to hack Esthar's satellite," the gunman all but hissed. "There is no pulling a trigger halfway Quistis. The bullet is already on its way, and sticking your finger in the barrel at this point is just going to make a bloody mess."

Crystal blue eyes stared for a long moment, not exactly grateful for the analogy. "Computer techs better than yourself have designed the system. If my signature is left all over Squall's files, we won't have time to sit down and analyze anything."

"Then I won't leave a signature," Irvine drawled smoothly. "There are three things I'm good at doing, three things that I'm better at than anyone else—shooting, hacking, and sex."

"You're out of toilet paper. Sorry, I used the last bit." Selphie announced as she returned, giving a weak smile. "So where were we?"

Licking his lips, Irvine spoke over the blonde instructor who seemed about ready to speak, "We were just discussing a new theory."

Brows furrowed, Quistis cast a questioning glance towards the assertive gunman. When he gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head, she frowned.

"What is it?" the copper haired woman queried with interest, flopping down beside the pretty cowboy.

"It's debatable, but what if Cid's been sending Squall on assignments since before passing the SeeD exam?" Picking his worn hat from off the armrest of the couch, he toyed with the rim as he continued. "Squall's a very strong fighter. It seems likely that Cid saw his potential and used him even though it was against protocol."

Tongue darting out as she thought, Selphie considered Irvine's words. It was likely, if she forgot for one moment that Squall hadn't ever said a thing about it, which kind of hurt to consider. "But why were they fighting?" she murmured, eyes dimming in remembrance. "Why would Cid hit Squall?"

Giving a dry scoff, Irvine commented, "You know how Squall can be. Sometimes I feel like hitting him myself."

"No, I don't know how Squall can be!" Selphie declared, glaring at the gunman for suggesting such a thing. "He's considerate even if he never shows it. He might not talk a lot, but most people talk too much anyway. I've never wanted to hit him. He's Squally, he's our Commander!"

"Xu's our Commander now," Quistis reminded.

Tensing for a moment, Selphie stared in shock towards the solemn looking blonde across from her and Irvine. "I know that," she mumbled dejectedly. "I just meant, I'll always look up to him."

"And so will we, which is why we're here," Irvine drawled, his tone calm and soothing.

Taking her glasses off and rubbing her eyes, Quistis sighed. "I feel like we're running in circles here. We have nothing to go on and nowhere to go. What exactly are we speculating, and why?"

Jaw clenching, Irvine stared for a harsh moment. "Babe, you wouldn't make us some coffee, would you?"

"Huh?" Selphie intoned, blinking before realizing Irvine had been talking to her. Gazing at the man for a long moment, bright green eyes seeming to question if everything was alright, she gave a small nod and stood up.

Alone once more, Irvine requested, "Give me the codes. If you're tired of going nowhere fast, let me at least set a steady direction."

Hands folded in her lap and lips set in a grim frown, Quistis slouched in defeat. "Alright," she spoke softly. "But remember that if you mess up, none of us will be able to find anything out."

------

Drying his hair as he exited the bathroom, Squall looked around the Seifer's bedroom with a scowl. "Where are my clothes?" he called out, confident the knight was still in the kitchen eating.

"They're dirty. Wear something else," Seifer's voice returned in an amused tone.

"Bastard," Squall hissed under his breath, forced to search through the blond's drawers for something suitable or walk through the halls in nothing but a towel to reach his own room which was unfortunately no where near Seifer's.

Torn between a pair of shorts that would ride longer along his legs than Zell's would have and folding the cuffs of a pair of jeans up, Squall eventually settled for the pants. Feeling like a complete idiot with a belt drawn to the last loop just to keep the pants from falling off every two steps, he angrily shrugged into a plain yellow t-shirt that seemed a decent size for him.

Loath to exit in his over sized clothes, Squall was resigned to listen to the blond's snickering as he joined the man in the small kitchenette. Glaring icily, he silently hoped that the amusement found at his expense was worth it in the end. "I could have worn them to my room at least," he hissed as he wrenched the refrigerator open and grabbed a bottle of water.

"Sorry, the cadet I pay to do my laundry came by and it seemed like the most convenient thing to do. I guess I'm just a nice guy," Seifer remarked, smirking around another forkful of hash browns.

Scoffing, Squall questioned, "You pay for laundry?"

"It's more like an agreement, but I guess you could say I pay the kid in the form of not beating him up."

Shaking his head in disapproval, Squall joined the knight at the small square table fastened to the wall. Sipping his chilled drink, he debated inquiring about the location of any medicines for hangovers, any variation would do.

"Is this all you could come up with?" the blond complained, scraping the last bit of hash browns from the platter in the center of the small table.

Stormy blue eyes cast a quick glance at the empty platter. The eggs and sausage were already gone. "That's all you had," he informed simply.

Rolling his eyes, Seifer gave the brunet a sardonic look that conveyed his displeasure. "Make some coffee," he ordered, grinning maniacally when the stubborn lion actually stood up to comply. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity that he intended to milk to the very end.

"All you have is instant," Squall stated, not waiting for a comment before preparing it. Honestly, he felt numb to Seifer's bullying, even his anger over the clothes dissipating. He just wanted to return to Esthar. Everything else was merely insignificant, including his inclinations to throw something sharp and heavy at the blond's head.

"Okay," Seifer exclaimed, rubbing his stomach contentedly. "I hopped a train to Dollet, your favorite town," he began, smirking at the way narrow shoulders tensed.

Lips pressed together, Squall set the microwave to nuke the cup of water for a minute. "Dollet," he murmured when the blond didn't continue. He hated Dollet, everything about the place. Prior to his mission during the SeeD exam, his last visit their had been an extended excursion with the former governor of the city, during which time he'd been pushed too far and ended up calling for Seifer's help.

"I was supposed to meet up with Kadowaki, but before that happened your bodyguard made an appearance."

Eyes widening, Squall snapped around and questioned, "James?"

"Yeah, he's the one," the knight said, his grin never faltering.

Schooling his expression, Squall lowered his gaze to the floor. He didn't think James would have come after him, but perhaps it had been Laguna's order. It was a few more moments before his eyes widened once more. "Dr. Kadowaki?" he questioned again.

"You catch on quick," Seifer mocked. "She's been looking out for you whenever she could. I think she's known from the beginning, but your head has always been up your ass, so I doubt you've even realized it."

"She knows," Squall mumbled in disbelief. "She never said anything to me."

"Did you say anything to her?" Seifer shot back. "You're so dense Leonhart."

At the sound of the timer going off, Squall busied himself with adding the powdered grinds of instant coffee, pausing to read the side panel on the container and then dishing out a second spoonful.

With a chink, the cheaply made coffee was placed before the boisterous blond. Choosing not to sit down, Squall gave his hands something to do and collected the empty plates on the tabletop.

"Kadowaki still showed up, and the three of us had a nice little chat."

Biting his lip, Squall tried to determine if Seifer was a big enough asshole to string him along this whole time and then inform him that all efforts had failed. "Can you be more direct?" he requested, needing to know if he was going to be spending another week at Garden or another year.

"I've got what you need," Seifer stated bluntly. "Enough that discredits whatever bullshit Kramer's come up with anyway."

"How?" Squall questioned, slowly moving closer.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Seifer grew solemn in reflection. "Believe it or not, the answer came to us."

"To the three of you, in Dollet?" the brunet murmured, making sure he was on the same page, hardly sparing a moment to appreciate the effort put forth by those on his side.

"We were hashing out a few ideas when this guy came up to us. To make a long story short, the guy's a reporter for the Timber Maniacs and he's been a stalker for something like two years now."

Brows furrowed, Squall questioned, "What's his name?"

"Hadrian Richardson. He's pushing fifty, at least he looks like it. He's been digging up all sorts of dirt since he saw you in Timber with President Deling's advisor."

"Define dirt," Squall said with growing trepidation.

Seifer grinned, recognizing Squally-boy's expression as what he'd also felt when realizing some outsider had proof of certain under the table deals. With Cid threatening to expose Leonhart with lies, they didn't need some reporter threatening to expose the war hero with truths.

"It's the not the dirt that matters," Seifer stated, green eyes dancing with mirth. "What matters is that this chump is madly in love with you and would do anything to help you out."

Squall stared with a neutral expression, not even blinking when long moments passed.

"Shall I rephrase?" Seifer lilted, polishing his nails on his shirt and blowing on them.

Still processing the information, Squall eventually stirred from his frozen pose. Lips parting, he hesitated to voice his question.

"The guy was following Kadowaki, but he refuses to reveal his sources, so I don't know how he knew about her." Leaning forward slightly, the blond knight crossed his forearms on top of the table. "It boils down to Richardson having rolls of film that place you with not only a number of paying customers, but a special occasion where Cid delivered you personally."

Searching his memories, Squall tried to figure who he'd been with after Deling's advisor. He couldn't even remember the advisor's name, let alone who he'd slept with since then. Though, he did recall the one time that Cid had accompanied him to meet with Governor Jordan. It had been a pivotal moment, not long after the previous governor had retired and the botched mess of his last visit. Cid had joined him to discuss matters and basically let the newbie politician know what special services Balamb Garden had to offer.

"Am I fucking genius or what?" the blond exclaimed, reclining dangerously in his seat.

On the verge of pointing out that it was more a case of being in the right place at the right time, Squall held his tongue. He refused to feel any relief, firmly believing that nothing was set in stone until he was actually back in Esthar. Cautiously, he asked, "What does this guy want?"

"Nothing," Seifer answered scathingly, finding such a selfless act to be suspicious and insulting to his way of life.

Eyes narrowing, Squall questioned, "What do you mean, 'nothing'?"

"Nothing means nothing," Seifer stated. "Richardson wants nothing in return but the knowledge that you're happy. He's a fucking loon if you want to know the half of it, spouting off shit about how he couldn't live with himself if you weren't able to smile."

The urge to bang his head against the table came along with the many questions about this sudden turn of events. With a heavy sigh, Squall pinched the bridge of his nose and sunk back against the chair he'd been sitting rigidly in. "Just tell me what he wants," he urged.

"As if I could make this shit up," the blond commented with annoyance. "He's a psycho stalker that should be making you his sex slave."

Squall glared at that.

"I tried to tell him that you'd be perfectly willing to bend over and take it good 'n hard if he did this for you, but he almost walked out on me for suggesting it."

"Do you have the film? Did you actually see it?" Squall questioned, trying to find fault in something that seemed so easily discredited as false hope.

"Is that a joke? Stick to swordplay, your humor sucks."

"Then how do you know, if you didn't see?" Squall spoke reasonably.

Reaching over the table, Seifer watched as stormy blue eyes simply followed the movement, no fear or avoidance. Flicking the younger man's forehead, he barked with laughter at the utter bewilderment that overtook the former Commander's eyes after flinching.

Squall raised a hand to his forehead, touching where Seifer had hit. When the blond seemed highly amused with no sign of settling down any time soon, he sent a withering glare and crossed his arms with an indignant huff. "What was that?"

It was a matter of minutes before Seifer managed to calm down, head bowed in his hands as he couldn't bear to stop laughing if he looked at Squall's face. "Priceless," he stated, shaking his head.

"…" Unamused, Squall glowered.

"Of course I saw the goods," Seifer stated defensively. "Who do you think you're dealing with," he chastised.

Rolling his eyes, Squall attempted to return to the focus of their conversation. "Where are we now?"

"We're in my dorm room," Seifer answered with a grin.

While Squall had managed to keep his hopes down, his frustration was as painful as his headache. Slamming his fist down on the tabletop, he kindly informed the blond of his feelings on the matter. "I want to go back," he whispered softly.

Whistling, Seifer commented, "Is it because he's the President of Esthar or did no one ever explain that fathers weren't for fucking?"

Resentful of the implication that his feelings for Laguna were just a screwed up manifestation of a son's feelings for a father, Squall glared venomously.

"Hyne Leonhart, my balls just shrunk it got so cold," he declared, giving a fake shiver.

"You told me to stay there, that it was a better life," Squall reminded.

"I know what I told you, I was there," the knight shot back. "I'm still confused how a man pushing fifty that trips over his own feet bagged you in a matter of days. The math doesn't add up."

"Bitter or jealous?" Squall murmured, a small smirk playing across his face as he thought of Laguna. He wanted to see the older man, and wasn't ashamed to admit that he was in aching need for a good fuck.

"Neither," Seifer growled. "I'm just confused."

Scoffing, Squall clued the blond man in, "You've never seen him naked."

Cringing, Seifer reeled back. "For Hyne's sake Leonhart, I don't want images." It was a moment later that he studied the amused expression on Squall's face and questioned, "Is he bigger than me?"

"Much," Squall informed impassively, laughing on the inside.

"Bullshit," Seifer remarked, sending an annoyed glare at no particular point on the table.

Shrugging with indifference, Squall asked, "Can I go to Cid today? Does Richardson want to meet with me?"

"I couldn't bring anything back with me, they checked me at the gates. But, Kadowaki's vacation ends tomorrow. She'll be the transporter."

"What about Richardson?"

"What about him?" Seifer questioned. "He's a fan of truth and justice, fighting the good fight for a young man he fell in love with at first sight. All it takes is a little wiggling of your ass to make him happy, so I don't suggest meeting with him to express your gratitude. You'll just give him ideas that break the no touching policy."

"He wants nothing?" Squall's disbelief was far from being abated. "No money, no sex, not even a word of thanks?"

"I said he was psycho. Who knows, maybe he'll come knocking on your door in a year and ask for his dues then."

A sudden thought occurred to Squall. "Did he say anything about Laguna? Does he know about that?"

Frowning, Seifer shook his head. "He mentioned security being too tight around Balamb Garden and how he couldn't live with himself if his stalking screwed with some mission during the war. Assuming everything the guy says is true, he pretty much stalled his obsessive Squall watching after your mission in Timber."

Rubbing his temple, Squall soothed his headache as best he could. It was difficult to think so much when each additional level of concentration brought a new meaning to the word 'migraine'. He'd thought Richardson might have been a friend of Laguna's. If they were around the same age and the man was a reporter for the Timber Maniacs, then it seemed a bit too likely to simply be coincidence. He'd have to wait until he could talk with Laguna.

"Then I'll confront Cid tomorrow," Squall announced quietly to himself, hope springing up and his mind already jumping ahead to his return to Esthar.

"If that's all settled for you, let's haul ass to the training center."

Squall glanced down at himself. While reluctant to walk the halls in Seifer's clothes, it inevitable. Scowling at the blond, he silently vowed to win their match despite his hangover.


	19. Chapter 19

Living with Heart

Act XIX

Squall stood in Headmaster's office, arms crossed as he leaned to one side with an air of indifference. No emotion breached his icy mask as he gazed at the Headmaster. His usual garb of leather pants with multiple belts and Lionheart holstered at his hip served to enhance the feeling that he were prepared for a sort of battle.

"What is this?" Cid questioned, feeling uneasy under the sharp gaze of steely blue eyes. Leaning back in his seat, he pointedly glanced at the duffel bag idly resting beside the stubbornly defiant boy.

"I'm leaving," Squall stated evenly.

Fear passed through the older man's eyes before all else, knowing the calculating young man wouldn't dare to leave unless there was some form of leverage against himself. Swallowing, he assumed a less telltale expression and stood up.

Impatient, Squall reached inside his worn leather jacket and extracted an unmarked manila envelope. Skillfully tossing the packet onto the meticulously organized desk, he almost smiled at the way Cid flinched. It was always nice to know he could still intimidate people, especially when he recalled that this particular person had slapped him recently.

Hesitantly, Cid picked the envelope up, afraid to see its contents. "I could still show them," he threatened as he slowly unwound the sealing string.

"…" Squall just waited. When the Headmaster peered inside and seemed to blanch, he assured, "Obviously you'd go down with me."

Jaw clenching, Cid let the collection of pictures slide back in the envelope before letting it drop back to his desk. "What exactly do you want?"

"Nothing," the brunet informed tersely. Reaching down to retrieve his bag, he stood and turned to leave while settling the strap over his shoulder.

"Wait!" Cid yelled after the retreating boy.

Squall didn't stop until he heard the sound of what he thought to be the penholder hitting the wall. Eyebrows raised, he turned around to cast the man a questioning glance.

"What the hell is in Esthar for you? Are you seriously this intent on turning your back on Garden? I raised you!"

Eyes narrowing, Squall reminded, "You used me."

"You never objected!" the Headmaster raged, his anger overtaking any need for appearances.

With a nod, Squall conceded that his lack of refusal was indeed true. "I'm objecting now," he informed.

Shoulders sagging, Cid stared at the floor for a long moment. "How can you ruin this administration?" he questioned.

Shifting to adjust the strap of his bag, Squall rolled his eyes. "I have no plans to expose anything or anyone. I've said it from the beginning, I'd rather the past become buried."

"Such a liability is unacceptable," Cid stated.

"And yet you have no choice," Squall shot back, a bit of his annoyance leaking through.

"Who helped you?" the older man questioned, head snapping up in realization that the boy must have had allies. "I find it very difficult to believe Mr. Almasy would have played a part in any of this."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Squall shook his head. "Almasy did nothing."

"You stayed at his place. You were sleeping with him and made some deal," the older man accused hotly.

Squall was mildly surprised at the Headmaster's ability to at least manage a reasonable conclusion that struck somewhere near the truth. "Seifer is one person who couldn't care less and doesn't ask questions. That is why I stayed at his place. He'd planned on seeing Rinoa anyway, and let me stay because he was grateful for having a sorceress again."

Staring at the young man intensely, Cid tried to determine if he was being lied to. "You had help. Who was it?"

Scoffing at the man's demand while in such a disposition, Squall humored the question for the sake of alleviating suspicion from his blond rival. "A palace guard from Esthar followed me. With Esthar's resources, it's not difficult to track someone like the photographer of those pictures down."

Glancing at his watch, Squall decided he didn't have the time or patience to neatly wrap matters up. The fact remained that Cid couldn't keep him there, which meant leaving before fate sent him some natural disaster that left him trapped. Beyond Garden being uplifted and moved to the middle of the ocean, there was little short of a massive earthquake that blocked all exits to keep him from walking out.

"Squall, wait!" Cid called out as the boy began to leave again.

In a timely manner, Squall proceeded all the way to the elevator. "What?" the brunet muttered. Though he turned to regard the Headmaster, he thumbed the down button on the panel next to the lift's doors.

"Don't go. I'm begging you," Cid said desperately. "Please, whatever you want… if you want to be Commander again, it's yours."

"Have you understood a single word I've said?" Squall hissed. "I don't want to be here," he stated firmly.

"Is this about the adoption? It doesn't matter anymore, President Loire can adopt you and I swear not to interfere."

With a ding, the elevator arrived and the doors opened smoothly. Squall stepped inside, but reached out to keep the doors from closing automatically. Despite the distance placed between them, Squall spoke lowly as he leveled the man with a dangerous glare, "No one takes my place. Run this place by the book or I'll throw my pride away."

While Squall doubt he'd ever voluntarily offer up proof of what he'd done, consequently incriminating Cid, he might be inclined to take action if he knew someone else was acting in his stead.

As the doors closed and there was the odd tug in his stomach as he descended, Squall felt as though it had ended too easily. After nearly nine years of his life being directed for him, he felt like there should have been some epic battle to break free of the ties that still kept him there. Yet, all it took was a little blackmail. Somehow, fighting fire with fire seemed too simplistic.

The ride down was short and Squall couldn't help but feel anxious to step beyond the main gates. With one thing on his mind, he was surprised when he stepped off the enclosed lift and abruptly stumbled back after knocking into someone.

Seifer laughed, hand still held out after watching the inattentive brunet walk right into it. "Careful Leonhart," he chastised with a smirk.

Scowling, Squall gazed upward to meet jade green eyes. "Thank you," he mumbled quietly, awkwardly shifting in place.

Grumbling, Seifer reached out and flicked the younger man's forehead. "Idiot," he said.

Beyond the help given to him by his rival, Squall referred to a rather awkward instance the night before when the blond had pushed him away before he could even begin to service the man.

"It's payback, you idiot," the knight growled. "Stop giving me that look. We're not friends."

"Asshole," Squall bit out in parting, stepping to the side and walking past the tall blond.

Seifer let Squall get all the way to the stairs before asking, "Do you plan on walking out of here?" As the brunet turned to regard him with questioning eyes, he dangled a set of keys. "I've got some shit to take care of in town, so I might as well drive you."

"…" Squall gave a faint nod.

"So did Cid wet himself when he saw the pictures?" the blond knight questioned with interest as they descended the open staircase in the main entry hall.

"I didn't let him say much," Squall admitted. He imagined the Cid could have filled up the rest of his day with bargaining pleas and empty threats had he continued to stand in the Headmaster's office.

"Tch," Seifer intoned with disapproval. "You should have had him licking your boots. You have no sense of style with these things."

"…" Squall felt it was only natural to want to be quick and blunt about it all, and return to Esthar all the sooner. Seifer was the only person who would have drawn it out with as much boisterous and ostentatious showmanship as possible.

Green eyes scanned the fractured crowd of cadets, only a lingering few daring to not head to class when the bell would ring any minute. While not particularly wary of anyone seeing him with Leonhart, he didn't need Kramer breathing down his neck for the rest of his homestead in Balamb Garden. A transfer wasn't out of the question if the Headmaster was looking to point a finger at him, but he hated cold weather and didn't have high esteem for Galbadians after meeting the playboy Kinneas.

Squall continued to watch the ground, finding nothing of greater interest than the slightly scuffed nature of the boot on his right foot. While he vaguely wondered if he'd ever go through clothes and shoes as fast as when he sparred with Seifer on a regular basis, his thoughts were easily overcome and consumed by his father.

"Just a heads up, but you might encounter a little trouble from your do-gooder friends," Seifer stated offhandedly.

Though his stride never faltered, Squall looked up in surprise. It was ridiculous to think he could have spent nearly three days there without anyone noticing. While he hadn't spoken with any of them, he'd hoped it had something to do with the lack of opportunity for such an exchange. Between Seifer's dorm and the training center, he'd spent perhaps a total of five hours in public view.

Before Squall could question the blond, he caught sight of what the older boy referred to. Near the secondary entrance where the cadets' badges were scanned coming and going, Irvine and Quistis stood together. Feeling his stomach had dropped, the former commander cast an uncertain glance to the knight beside him.

Humming his own displeasure, Seifer eventually settled for staying out of Leonhart's affairs after already becoming more involved than he'd have liked. As they passed the signboard with the basic campus layout, he pat the smaller man on the back. "I'll bring the car around front. I won't hesitate to leave your sorry ass after ten minutes."

Squall didn't move when Seifer walked off for the parking garage. It was difficult to keep up appearances, especially when he'd lost so much motivation. Still, with a calm expression and well-mannered stride, he headed towards the pair. With any luck, they weren't there to yell at him, just send him off.

Unease set in when it became quite obvious that they were intent on some confrontation. He felt each individual gaze upon him. It was the first time he'd ever felt as though his mask were seen for what it was, as if they were looking to find proof that he wasn't being wholly honest.

Though choosing not to speak up, Squall glanced into the eyes of both the head instructor and sharp shooting cowboy before pointedly standing a noticeable distance apart from them.

"Welcome back," Quistis greeted flatly.

Frowning, Squall inquired, "What's going on?"

"That's our question," the blonde instructor returned, arms crossed as if to silently state she wouldn't let anyone pass. Sadly, it was quite apparent that her efforts were all for show. Though concerned, she was hardly willing to use force.

"I'm leaving," Squall informed impassively. It was then that he began to feel guilt over his actions, knowing he'd regret it if he just brushed them off all together. They did mean a lot to him, but he'd rather that they hate him for who he was in their minds at that moment than find out the embarrassing truth. He had little doubt that they would only become more endeared to him for it, pitying him and lightly chastising him for never saying anything. And that was exactly what he wanted to avoid.

"You're leaving before you've even said 'hello'?" Irvine drawled in disbelief. "That's just rude."

"I'm sorry, I'm in a hurry," Squall explained.

Hand reaching up to tilt his hat back, violet eyes pinned the former commander in place. "But not rushed enough to overlook your blooming friendship with Almasy."

Squall was suddenly reminded of the usual air shared between himself and Seifer. Walking by the knight's side without his blade drawn would have been perceived as holding the man's hand while frolicking in a field of wildflowers. It was pointless to play dumb when they obviously knew he'd spent his time at Seifer's place and been in contact with the blond more than anyone.

Sighing heavily, Squall glanced at his watch, wondering if he could make it in ten minutes. "I had business with Seifer," he explained. With Seifer being Rinoa's knight, it was well within reason that he would have a few matters to discuss with the arrogant bully.

"We know something is going on," Quistis stated, reminding the younger man that she'd been the one to know of Cid's odd behavior before anyone else. While she was loath to force Squall into admitting anything, the suspicion surrounding everything had grown beyond Cid merely being reluctant to let an important mercenary leave.

Squall debated for several moments, trying to figure just what they were suspicious of. "As Head Instructor, this isn't the place to discuss anything," he reprimanded sternly. Quistis had already gone out on a limb for him, he didn't need her or anyone else placed over fire and demoted.

"Don't brush us off," the blonde woman urged, hoping they could move to a more private setting and talk.

"I'm not," Squall murmured as he made to walk around them. "You can talk to me in the car."

------

Pen tapping in rapid succession, Laguna sat brooding over his depressing predicament. He was going through progressing stages of a lover's withdrawal, currently feeling stir crazy and highly anxious. After nearly breaking his phone, he'd finally just asked that all phone calls be held unless it pertained to his son.

The unbroken silence was actually proving worse than the occasional ring that sent him jumping to pick up the receiver. Instead of the spikes in blood pressure, he was now nauseous and on the verge of an anxiety attack.

There was no possible way he could work under such circumstances. Succumbing to his weakness, he decided that he'd finish reading one last amendment bill before calling Kiros and leaving the office. He was a wreck and in no position to be running a country with sound judgment. When deciding to come in, he'd hoped his mind might find some distraction if he forced himself to become immersed in his work.

He was ashamed of his obsession and sick of being so pathetic, but it wouldn't have been so bad if he'd known Squall was back at the estate and not half way around the world with a man that had prostituted the boy. The threat of what could become of Squall again weighed heavily on his heart. He envisioned scenarios of other men touching the man he loved.

It was approaching ten o'clock when his secretary knocked on the door and brought in lidded cup of coffee. Marina Dodson was a young woman in her mid thirties and capable of overseeing the organization of not only a very busy President, but also a man who needed to be guided to meetings that were held only two doors down the hall. It helped that President Loire took no offense to constant reminders of when meetings were and the subtle nudges to finish certain tasks.

Miss Dodson couldn't help but frown as her presence went wholly unnoticed until she was standing before the President's desk. "Sir, is everything alright?" she questioned, replacing the forgotten cup of coffee on the corner of the desk. Still completely full, she was surprised that it had been untouched.

Giving a weak smile, Laguna assured, "I'm just concerned about my son."

The President's so-called concern was apparent in anguished hazel green eyes. "Would you like anything?"

"No thank you," Laguna answered, noticing for the first time that the woman had brought him more coffee, something he usually loved.

Being that it wasn't her place to pry into the Estharian President's personal affairs, Marina simply nodded and took her leave.

Sighing heavily, Laguna sank into the plush leather chair. Turning around to face the window behind his desk, he stared blankly at the heavy grey sky. It was crappy weather. Muggy and cloudy, it would rain soon. He wondered what the sky looked from Squall's eyes at that very moment.

Shaming himself further after holding out valiantly for six days, Laguna began to cry. If he felt it would help, he'd have snuck out and stormed into Balamb Garden. However, Kiros constantly reminded him that there was nothing he could do other than wait, which was problematic because it was slowly killing him.

Using the cuff of his navy blue dress shirt, he swiped at the trailing moisture in frustration, berating himself for being so utterly unmanly. At this rate, he wouldn't be worthy of having Squall as a lover.

The boy was always so composed, something he was jealous of at times. He admired his son as the strong young man he could never have been at such an age and as a man that out shown him in so many ways.

He now understood after observing the Balamb lion up close. He understood everything. His attraction was the most natural thing in the world when it came to someone who so completely drew the eyes of everyone within a ten-meter radius. He also understood that he was first person to truly love the boy, which was why Squall was his.

------

Seifer watched with amusement as the pale brunet pinched the bridge of a delicate nose. "That's six times," he commented with a chuckle, earning an icy glare.

"Stop it," Squall hissed, lowering his hand from his face.

"Squall," Irvine drawled from the backseat, attempting to capture the young man's attention once more. "Can you fill in the gaps in your record? Why do I get the feeling your entire file is false?"

"Oh, he's catching on quick Leonhart. Want me to stop the car and kick him out?"

"Seifer," Squall hissed once more in warning.

"You lied to me when I saw you in Esthar," Quistis stated from beside the gunman, her tone not necessarily accusing.

Shaking his head, Squall refuted, "No." Though his hand habitually reached up, he stopped halfway and glared at the blond driver who began laughing once more. He had lied in Esthar, hiding behind the motion for guardianship, but lying was easy for him.

"How did Cid bring you back?" the instructor pressed.

"He wanted to talk about the adoption," Squall offered smoothly. "He's agreed to step back."

"And why exactly wouldn't he have done so in the first place?" Irvine questioned. "There is something between you two that has to do with you taking extended leaves of absence all the time."

At a loss for a plausible excuse, Squall finally admitted, "It's none of your business."

"Squall!" Quistis called in a raised voice of reprimand. "This does concern us because we're your friends."

"Stop prying into my affairs," Squall ordered coldly. Turning in his seat to look back at the two, he demanded, "Stop it."

Crystal blue eyes stared resolutely from behind wire-rimmed glasses. "What's going on?" the instructor pressed.

"Stop digging around in my past. If I wanted you to know, then I'd tell you," Squall bit out harshly, the themes of his messages all the same.

"Are you admitting that you're hiding something?" Irvine queried, leveling the brunet with a narrowed gazed from beneath the brim of his hat.

"My secrets are my own to keep. Stop meddling," Squall bit out with rising annoyance.

"We care about you and what happens to you," Quistis declared firmly. "If you're in trouble, we want to help. If something is wrong, we want to fix it. Let us help you."

"There's nothing to fix," Squall murmured.

Grumbling in discontent, Seifer spoke up, "Leonhart, you suck at this."

Scoffing, Squall shifted to stare forward out the front windshield.

Rolling his eyes, the blond knight graciously elaborated, "What his pissy highness means is that you're dredging up shit from the past. He doesn't want you to know, so back off."

"I'm sorry, who the hell are you to get involved?" Irvine shot vehemently.

"Fuck this," Seifer growled, deciding not to speak for the boy beside him. However, his temper won out after only a few seconds of sticking to this decision. "I've known him longer than your pretty boy ass, so shut the fuck up."

"I'm sitting right behind you with a loaded rifle, you wanna rephrase that?" Irvine challenged.

"Just as soon as you learn how to use a decent weapon," the blond knight shot back.

"Shut up!" Squall barked in annoyance, effectively capturing everyone's attention with his outburst. "Seifer's right, it's all in the past. There's nothing to fix Quistis, so please stop pushing this."

Needing to have a final word, Seifer tacked on, "You should have just listened to me."

"Shove it Almasy," the gunman bit out. He'd put his neck on the line to access Squall's file, and this was the thanks he received. "Squall, I've got a little lady who's mighty upset after hearing that conversation between you and the headmaster that night at the fountain. If I don't find the answers, she'll be more upset with each conclusion her wild imagination draws."

"You were spying on me?" Squall muttered incredulously.

"Because we knew you wouldn't tell us anything," Quistis defended. "I knew it'd be the same today, but I'd hoped that if we had something to go on, you'd have to tell us."

"Please, just drop it," Squall requested, not far from begging.

Quistis reached out to gently squeeze Irvine's arm, sensing he was about to speak. "If you can look me in the eye and swear to me that you're not in any trouble and that absolutely nothing is wrong, then we'll leave you alone."

Jaw clenching, Squall shifted once more, leaning around uncomfortably. Staring fixedly into his former instructor's eyes, he stated, "Someone has already fixed everything."

Wide eyed, Quistis couldn't help but let her gaze waver towards the driver's seat.

"Seifer helped me because he had a debt to pay and didn't care enough to ask for details," Squall explained, even though he hadn't actually been referring to Seifer.

"What about President Loire?" Irvine drawled, remembering the sight of the two seated together on a bike.

"…" Squall's gaze shifted to rest on the gunman.

"You two were awfully intimate on that bike ride."

Grey-blue eyes narrowed. "He's my father."

"If my old man came around at this point, I'd be putting him through hell for abandoning me, not flaunting how much I want him to adopt me like some overdramatic cover up." Violet eyes watched for any indication that he'd struck the head of the nail.

Squall wanted to smile at Irvine's attempt, but continued to show no reaction. He was a pro at this. "The concept of a family is as unfamiliar to Laguna as it is to me. It's awkward, but we are trying in our own way."

Seifer was forced to drive with one hand while he attempted to stifle his laughter. "That's rich," he commented, wishing he weren't the only one who could share in the joke.

With a sigh, Quistis fell back against the seat. "I guess that's it then." They were already approaching the town and Squall wasn't budging. It was difficult to have a firm hand in the matter when Squall assured her nothing was currently wrong. She was very much alarmed to learn that something had once been wrong and that the younger man was unwilling to tell her about, not to mention adamant that she stop trying to find out on her own.

"I hope you two realize I'm not giving you a ride back," Seifer muttered darkly as he slowed to the town's speed limit.

TBC…

Author's Notes: Next chapter will involve more closure on certain matters and of course Squall returning, which will involve a lemon. I'm hesitant to say that the next chapter may be the last, but that might be the case. It all depends on how long the rest of the story turns out when written. It's very little warning, I know, but I swear it's not some rush to finish the story. I was never certain how to end this fic, but it's pretty much panned out nicely for me so far and it is at a point where it's near an end.


	20. Chapter 20

Warning: Sexually explicit content, so cover your eyes if you shouldn't be reading this. You may want to plug your ear as well.

Living with Heart

Act XX

Laguna ran a weary hand over his face. Able to count the number of hours he'd slept since Squall left on two hands, the raven-haired man sat up with a heavy groan. Lying in a bed for four hours straight didn't mean he'd slept a wink, though the tossing and turning had done a number on his hair.

Managing to not run into anything or trip himself up as he walked mindlessly into the bathroom, he planned to take a quick shower and arrive early at his office. Though he doubted he could accomplish anything himself, he'd stay with Kiros and see if his friend could keep his mind off of Squall.

Keeping the water cooler than he would have liked, he hoped it would wake him up more fully. However, when he accidentally poured almost three times the amount of shampoo necessary, he understood that waking up was going to be a long process.

The sharp knocking that came from the bathroom's open doorway certainly served to lessen the groggy haze. Starting in surprise, Laguna glanced around as if able to see through the tiled walling that enclosed three sides of the shower.

"President Loire," Thomas spoke with an apologetic tone at obviously intruding. "Mr. Seagill is on the phone," he informed.

In a rush that probably should have left the clumsy man sprawled on the floor, Laguna managed to grab a towel and wrap it around his waist before losing all sense of modesty. With the water still running and his hair sopping, he was oblivious to the puddles that trailed in his leave.

Accepting the phone, not even considering how much water would run over it from his hair, Laguna held it up to his ear. "Tell me something good," he requested in greeting, nodding absently in thanks to his guard for bringing him the phone.

There was a brief pause of silence on the other end. "Would you consider Squall being on a train heading to Esthar good?"

Slowly making his way over toward the sink's counter, Laguna leaned against it. Sighing, he stubbornly pressed the heel of his palm against each eye as frustrated tears began to flow far too early in the morning for him to deal with. "That's the best news you could give."

"Garrison is with him. They just arrived in Fisherman's Horizon. Lieutenant Foler called me when he couldn't get a hold of you at the residence."

"I've been staying at the estate the past few days," Laguna reminded.

"I know, that's why I said I'd just pass the news on," the advisor's smooth voice informed with an undertone of mirth.

Inhaling sharply, Laguna braced himself and attempted to shake off his frustrations. "When does the train reach Esthar?"

"You know I have to advise against you going out to meet him, but since I know there's no stopping you at this point. His train won't arrive for about an hour."

"Thank you," Laguna said before hanging up. His mind was reasonably functional, telling him to first turn the water off in the shower and perhaps take the time to wear something other than pajamas.

-----

By the time Squall boarded the train headed for Esthar, he felt on edge and unable to find a moment's peace. Though constantly scanning his surroundings as though expecting a hoard of monsters to jump out from beneath the small cot like bed in the corner of the compartment, he appeared as outwardly calm as possible.

"You know, I think I've proven to be slightly capable at my job," the sandy blond guard announced, seated directly across from the younger man. "Take a nap or something, just stop worrying."

Scowling at the guard for even suggesting he ignore the situation, Squall refused to consider the idea and turned his focus out the window. The fast passing of water was annoying, forcing grey-blue eyes to focus on the horizon or become nauseous.

"Okay, fine," James murmured with slight annoyance, suddenly remembering the difficulties he'd had with his charge from day one. Standing up, the tall guard moved across the small space towards the bed. "If you're so insistent on being the lookout, then I'll take a nap. Technically, I'm off duty anyway."

Lips pressed tightly together, Squall cast a furtive glance towards James. The primly mannered black suit was disheveled, the tie loosed and the white shirt slightly wrinkled. He imagined that the guard might not have had a very easy time since his departure from Esthar roughly four days ago.

"Thank you," the brunet muttered just loud enough for the older man to hear.

Grumbling incoherently, James turned over with his back facing the stubborn boy. He hadn't truly done a whole lot outside of following the kid to Balamb and making the proper contacts to keep the President informed of the situation. He had been the one to negotiate with Richardson, unable to leave it up to the hotheaded knight who kept suggesting Squall have sex with the guy in return for such a favor.

-----

Although Squall had not envisioned any scenarios about his eminent meeting with Laguna, he'd had some expectations that it wouldn't turn out so awkward.

Beyond lucky that there were no passengers aside from himself and James, Squall was immediately rushed by the Estharian President moments after debarking. In a month or two, Tarners Platform would be crowded with people from all over the world, visiting under the new open door policy that hadn't quite taken effect yet.

While Squall was indeed concerned with consoling the upset man, he was more concerned with taking their reunion someplace private.

Laguna clutched fiercely at the thin white t-shirt of the younger man's chest, his distressed presence demanding the boy console him. Deciding to speak later, he persisted in keeping close, head bowed against a narrow shoulder. He felt a wave of relief wash over him when Squall gently hugged him.

"I know how you feel," Squall whispered. "But, we can't do this here."

Nodding an affirmative, Laguna still found it quite impossible to step away. He needed the boy's heat and scent. He needed to touch and hold Squall. More to the cause of his frustrations, he needed to have Squall touching him, affirming that he was still wanted and that things would return to the way they'd been only a matter of days ago.

It wasn't until they were seated in the back seat of the black BMW, which had first driven him to the Loire Estate over three weeks ago, that Squall was able to actually look at Laguna properly. Previously he'd only seen a blur of raven hair, which he now noticed was a bit of a mess and faintly damp.

Grey-blue eyes studied the older man's profile, absently hearing the president's request to be taken back to the estate. Squall berated himself for the thoughts that formed, finding the timing to be terrible. He followed the curve of the man's firm jaw, down to the exposed hollow near the collar of a v-neck sweater.

Squall had missed Laguna, finding that certain goofy nature was something that amused him to no extent and being without it was rather depressing. He couldn't help but feel content already at the expression of need the man had already given. It was nice to know that he was still important in the view of innocent hazel-green eyes. He supposed he should just give up trying to find fault in the man, trying to undermine the love Laguna held for him. It was a difficult concept, but the bumbling president was making it surprisingly clear that there was such a thing as a love apart from lust.

"I was worried," Laguna stated, leaning over to calmly rest his head in his hands. He felt uncertain about clinging to the boy again.

"…" Squall didn't have much to say. He could apologize, but it didn't seem right when he'd left knowing how Laguna would feel. Biting his lip, he remained in place, the space between them feeling cold.

There was a long silence in the car. While Squall generally dwelled in moments of silence, he could not find solace in it in such an instance. Unlike the two guards up front, his silence seemed out of place. He felt as though he should be speaking.

"I'm not sure I can wait until we reach the estate," Laguna mumbled dejectedly, forcing his eyes to stare at the black upholstery beneath his feet.

It took Squall a moment to understand, but when he did he immediately took pity on the man. Sliding over, he deftly settled right in Laguna's lap. Straddling the president's thighs, he stared for several moments into searching green eyes. It might have become awkward for the passengers upfront, but it was suddenly much more comfortable for Squall.

Laguna accepted the boy's advances impassively. At length, when he found no obvious answers hidden in mesmerizing stormy blue eyes, he pressed forward and hugged Squall tightly. He didn't need anything else, just Squall.

With a content sigh, Laguna buried his head against the crook of a pale neck, eyes fluttering closed as he inhaled the familiar sent of sandalwood. He wanted to stay like that for the remainder of the ride, hoping the brunet would indulge him.

"I missed you," Laguna whispered hoarsely. One arm crept higher, his fingers seeking to twine in silky brown hair.

Squall ignored the stiffness in his legs, feeling the circulation lessen and knowing he'd feel pricking needles if he remained in place for too long. Still, his legs falling asleep was a minor consequence in light of being able to be so close to Laguna.

-----

Four friends sat solemnly around the rectangular coffee table in Quistis' dorm. While Irvine had wanted to make up a comforting lie, Quistis had insisted on being truthful.

"So, he wouldn't tell you what was going on?" Selphie questioned, feeling saddened that she didn't know Squall as well as she'd thought.

Adjusting her glasses, Quistis reminded, "He's a very private person."

With a frown, Irvine corrected, "He doesn't think it's any of our business."

"And it really isn't," the blonde instructor commented. "I'm just as frustrated as you Irvine, but if he's not in any trouble then we can't force him to tell us. We should respect his wishes."

"Hey man," Zell interjected, "I don't care if he doesn't wanna pour his heart out to us, but why did he go to Almasy? I mean, that's just insulting."

"He has known Seifer longer than the rest of us. Maybe it was something that happened when we weren't around," Selphie suggested with uncertainty.

Reluctant to burst the copper haired woman's bubble, Quistis refrained from pointing out that she had known Squall nearly as long as Seifer, making it unlikely that the blond knight would have been around for some major event and not her as well. With a weak smile, she agreed, "That's probably it."

Shoulders slumping, Selphie gave a pouting whine. "This is a total bummer. Squally hates us."

"Darlin', you know that's not true," the gunman comforted, his arm wrapping around the young woman's tiny frame.

"It might be something embarrassing, like wetting the bed until he was twelve," Zell suggested, scratching his chin as if imagining all the embarrassing scenarios that might fit the unknown circumstances.

"Cid wouldn't have hit Squall for wetting the bed," Selphie mumbled dejectedly.

"I know that," the spiky haired boxer said defensively. "I just meant, if it were something like that, then he wouldn't want us knowing."

With a sigh, Quistis said what she really wanted to, "You guys, thank you for your help. I know I shouldn't have dragged you all into this and that you put yourselves on the line for it. I wish we could have found out exactly what was going on, but it's obvious that Squall doesn't want us to know. He was quite adamant about leaving it alone."

More than a little unhappy with the way things had turned out, especially after going to such lengths as cracking into Balamb Garden's enrolment records, Irvine glared at the innocent coffee table. "I'd just as soon keep digging around 'til I figured it all out, but I have a feeling we weren't even heading in the right direction."

"I don't think so either," Quistis agreed. "But the fact remains that it's all in the past."

"We don't know that for certain," the gunman refuted.

"We just have to trust Squall," the instructor shot back with a stern gaze from behind her glasses.

Irvine scoffed. He had absolutely no problem with anyone wanting to keep secrets, but he couldn't forgive the distress caused to his little lady. "I suppose it's just a minor technicality that our trust in Squall lead us to this room, discussing some big secret that seems more like a conspiracy."

Zell's only sore spot with the situation was Seifer being involved, but he could over look that if it was what Squall wanted. Unable to sit still any longer, his feet began tapping on the floor.

"Irvy, don't be angry at Squall," Selphie pleaded.

"I'm not really angry darlin', just frustrated. I know we did this on our own, but I can't stand leaving it like this."

"Look at it this way," Zell began with a proud expression at having come up with a clever parallel. "It's like with you and Selphie, sort of."

Irvine rolled his eyes, preparing to lose a few brain cells.

"You've slept with a lot of woman, that's not a secret. But, you don't anymore now that you're with Selphie."

Selphie grinned brightly, leaning into the gunman's side. "That's right," she cheered merrily. After a moment though, she frowned. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Sighing in exasperation, the boxer elaborated on what he thought was obvious. "If Selphie can trust that you've pulled a one-eighty, then shouldn't we trust Squall on this? I mean, he might have some secrets, but that doesn't mean he's lying on this."

"Zell, I must say that was actually rather insightful," Quistis commented with a nod of approval. Even if the presentation was a bit sketchy, the idea was there.

Irvine sighed in defeat, finding no support from anyone to continue digging deeper. In the end, he would have needed their help and it just wasn't worth it when no one would apparently benefit from uncovering the truth. But, he felt discontented and curious with no prospect of ever feeling soothed.

"Did he seem happy?" Selphie questioned, gazing imploringly at Quistis.

"He seemed relieved to be going back to Esthar," Quistis answered. "He was more angry than anything when we kept pushing for answers."

Zell finally gave in to his urges and stood up, hopping from foot to foot. "Of course he was angry. He was probably afraid of everyone knowing he has bladder control issues."

"Zell," Quistis chastised. "Squall does not wet the bed."

"You're right, that'd be totally un-cool and Squall's the coolest guy I know," Zell agreed, boxing the air.

Leaning back against the couch, Irvine kindly pointed out, "That's what the ladies say about me." With a smirk, he forced his expression to seem nonchalant. At that point, his main concern was alleviating all worry from Selphie's shoulders, and his continued persistence and obvious discontent would make him the number one cause of that worry.

Throwing the gunman a halfhearted glare, Zell ceased his shadow boxing. Continuing to think of what might be too embarrassing to share with long time friends, his forehead crinkled with the effort. Suddenly going wide-eyed, he murmured, "Oh man. Why didn't we see it before?"

"What?" Quistis asked with alarm.

"It fits perfectly," the blond boxer exclaimed, falling back into his seat limply. "It's embarrassing, but not so mortifying that he'd live a lie instead. He wouldn't want anyone knowing, and Cid might have been against it, and that's why he wants to stay in Esthar, _and _it explains why he couldn't be with Rinoa."

"What? What?" Selphie pressed, ready to throttle the short man if he didn't begin explaining.

Expression growing serious, a severe look to baby blue eyes, Zell leaned forward in his chair. "Squall must be gay."

There was a long moment of silence. No one spoke. They all stared at Zell. While their first instinct was to dismiss it and wonder if someone was lacing the hotdogs with some cognitive impairing drug, the silence indicated that they were actually reflecting on it.

Wary about giving credence to Zell's conclusion, Irvine was the first to speak. "How is being gay not mortifying?" The gunman didn't affirmatively speak out against homosexuals, not when he thought two chicks going at it was hot, but he grimaced at the idea of two men together.

"Mortifying?" Selphie intoned incredulously. "It'd be so cute if Squall were gay."

Zell gestured to Selphie with a hand. "That's what I mean. The other day there were a whole bunch of second year cadets talking in the cafeteria about how adorable Nida looked with that one dude who transferred from Trabia. But it's Squall we're talking about, so he can't just stay at Garden when coming out of the closest, not with his reputation."

"Please, let's not jump to conclusions like this. I thought we were in agreement to drop the whole thing," Quistis chastised the group collectively.

"But it fits, right?" Zell persisted, excited about being right. "That's why he's staying in Esthar, because they're so ambiguous about that kind of thing.

"Or maybe he found someone in Esthar and wants to give everything up to stay with him!" Selphie exclaimed. "Oh Squally's fallen in love, but was too embarrassed to tell us. Cid must have found out and disapproved of such forbidden love. It's like a romance novel."

"Selphie," Quistis implored, "I highly doubt that's anywhere near the mark." There were many other answers that would fit into place, but only one of them was the truth and it was decided that they wouldn't carry on with any investigation, so it shouldn't matter.

Irvine gazed at the bright smile on Selphie's face. Casting a meaningful glance to the head instructor, the gunman said, "You know darlin', you might be right." As ludicrous as it sounded, if it made Selphie happy, then he'd back her up even if he didn't believe it. If possible, he hoped the young woman didn't analyze the words exchanged that night by the fountain, which would blatantly point to something else.

"I'm the one who figured it out," Zell immediately interjected.

"No," Selphie refuted. "You said he's staying in Esthar because they don't care about being gay, but I said that Squall's staying there because he has a boyfriend."

"Yeah, but Squall being gay in the first place was my idea," the boxer returned, wanting credit where it was due.

"Don't start spreading rumors," Quistis said with a groan, rolling her eyes when Irvine gave her a small nod of thanks. She'd yell at him later for encouraging such idiocy.

-----

Laguna couldn't help but feel like a perverted old man when the proximity of Squall eventually began to turn him on. He'd been looking forward to getting the boy into his bed as soon as they arrived, but in a wholly innocent sense. He wanted to take the day to catch up on lost hours of sleep, holding the warm body of his lover close. However, by the time they were nearing the estate, he was only a few jostling movements away from having an erection.

The playful feel of fingers in his hair was causing Laguna to forget that he was in a car with two spectators present. He was rather embarrassed to be publicly affectionate, less so because it was with his son and more so because he was a bit conservative when it came to that sort of thing.

Regardless of whether Laguna was perfectly comfortable with having sex in front of all the members of parliament, his fingers unconsciously flexed in a groping movement and his lips eventually found their way to a pale neck. It was subtle, just some light petting that served to fulfill at least a fraction of what he wanted to be doing.

"We're almost there," Squall whispered softly with an implied promise. He carefully shifted back and slid from the president's lap, which had been his resting place for the past twenty minutes. He winced slightly when unfolding his legs, reminded why such things were only done when comfortably in bed. He might have fallen asleep on his perch had his mind not been fixated on what would happen once they reached their destination.

Laguna felt the loss of heat immediately, almost succumbing to the urge to keep Squall in place. In the end, he gave no protest and simply awed at his son's ability to have grace in every situation, something he had very little of.

Squall was entirely unaffected by the inappropriate setting, but he knew that once he got started he wouldn't be able to stop half way through, and a bed was a requirement for what he had in mind.

Slightly nauseated by the display between father and son, James kept his eyes trained outside the car, pointedly avoiding the side mirror. It wasn't his knowledge of the blood relation, but the newlywed aura between the pair that he could certainly do without. He'd have been more comfortable if they'd begun tearing each other's clothes off, acting a little less lovey-dovey than simply holding each other.

Unable to keep his eyes from stealing glanced in the rear view mirror, Thomas was grateful he managed to drive them all back safely. Not completely in tune with what a sexual relationship between father and son entailed, it was sort of like watching a train wreck. He couldn't waste the opportunity, quite certain the pair would always meander to a private location for anything blatantly not done between father and son.

With a rushed slam of the car doors, the two guards found they were swiftly being left behind. James didn't bother to hide his amusement, chuckling at the hurried steps taken as the dark haired duo sped up the long stoop of stairs. It was amazing how the perception of a person changed with first hand observation. President Loire was nothing of the man he'd perceived originally, but his respect for the ruler of the country was no less.

Inside the estate, Laguna and Squall strode abreast through the main entry hall.

"I should warn you," Laguna spoke with a slightly nervous edge to his voice. "I'm running on very little sleep and haven't stopped thinking of you since you left. I don't know how long I can last or how gentle I can be." He felt the need to warn Squall and perhaps apologize ahead of time in case he were too forceful, but the truth was that he couldn't wait much longer.

Squall simply smirked, entirely endeared that the man was worried about his well being in such an instance. He didn't bother pointing out that Laguna didn't really stand much of a chance if he chose to fight back. Instead, he assured the President by pinning the man to the nearest wall.

"Squall?" the older man questioned, gazing into sharp eyes that seemed to be saying something he couldn't quite understand.

Squall kissed Laguna roughly. His lips meshed with bruising force as he demanded a response. Sliding a seeking tongue over the president's own, he relished their first kiss as his impatient body would allow. Once eliciting a groan from the man, he drew back. "Don't worry about things that don't matter," he chastised gently while stepping away.

Delighted to have Squall back, Laguna grinned sheepishly. His body was on fire, his blood heating a little more each second the boy was near. Suddenly frantic to reach either one of their rooms, not remembering which was closer, he scoured the premise.

In the end, Squall's room was closer and the pair managed to make it before opting to do it in the middle of the hallway.

Laguna gave up trying to unfasten Squall's belts, tugging at them as though they'd just break loose. Eventually, the boy took pity on him and deftly managed to accomplish what his fumbling fingers couldn't.

"We should take this slower," Laguna murmured as Squall knelt down and made quick work of unbuttoning his pants.

"Why?" Squall returned, contently tugging at the elastic band of navy blue boxer shorts, momentarily ignoring the way black dress pants were only pulled part way down and might trip the clumsy man up.

Swallowing thickly, Laguna tried to fathom a possible reason for taking it slower. When moist heat suddenly enveloped his hardened length, all reasons became moot. He groaned in pleasure as the younger man proceeded to suck him off.

Before the longhaired president really did trip, Squall unlaced the man's shoes and pushed both pants and boxers down to the floor. With teasing nips around the base of the penis, he stroked the engorged organ to stand completely erect. Sighing contently, he traced the underside with his tongue, then swirling around the mushroomed head.

Laguna found himself swaying in place, eyes closing at the feeling of Squall's devilish tongue swiping the slit of his sensitive length. He feared he wouldn't be able to hold out if the boy kept going, but he was powerless to vocalize such a concern.

With a final taste of the bitter fluid that leaked from the angry red tip of the engorged cock, Squall leaned back. In paced motions, he rid himself of his shoes and t-shirt. Pants following, the brunet stood completely bared before the older man.

Laguna gulped as his eyes roved the lithe figure, pale skin over lean muscles. As the boy sauntered close, his hands twitched with the need to reach out and touch every inch of exposed flesh. He became confused when Squall walked right by him and then away. His heart raced as all his blood rushed south, his eyes fixated on the pert ass of the younger man's retreating form. It was several lust dazed moments later that Laguna realized Squall was headed for the bedroom.

In the bedroom, grey-blue eyes narrowed at the sight of the unmade bed. It was pretty self-explanatory to see the bed in such a state. Knowing that Laguna had occupied the space in his absence, he felt the urge to apologize, but once more refrained from such a meaningless expression of sympathy and regret. He wasn't sorry, because in the end he was able to stay with the president and not be hounded with worries about being forced back.

"What are you thinking?" Laguna whispered against Squall's ear, coming up from behind and pressing flush against the naked form. Unable to control himself, he rocked forward, his length grinding against the cleft of the brunet's ass.

Letting out a small gasp, Squall let his head fall back against a broad shoulder. At the moment, he wasn't thinking about anything except having Laguna inside of him. "I want you inside me," he admitted longingly.

Jaw clenched, Laguna continued to undulate against the body in his hold, steadily working himself into a frenzied state where he wouldn't be able to stop. Thankfully, his younger counter part seemed to have more control and broke away to climb atop the bed.

Taking charge, Laguna round the bed and searched beneath the pillow for the small bottle of lube. Now experienced in preparing the younger man for entry, he felt relief in being able to put his skills to practice once more.

Squall shivered in anticipation as Laguna settled between his legs, even the sound of the bottle's cap being opened serving to stimulate him. As slick fingers rubbed along his perineum, sliding closer to his entrance, he spread his legs wider.

Marveling at the younger man, Laguna intently watched the heavy lidded expression to direct him along. Gently nudging the tip of his index finger beyond the puckered opening, he watched the reclining figure shudder in pleasure.

Slowly, with sensual undertones and selfish enjoyment, Laguna stretched the tight entrance to accommodate him. He knew Squall's number one erogenous zone was the rosy little anus that he was mercilessly playing with, but he couldn't help it when pale cheeks became tinged red and pout lips parted in panting gasps.

With four fingers plunging in and out of Squall's entrance, Laguna began to pant as well. It was physically exerting to restrain himself under such pressure, his leaking cock continually demanding that he ram into the lithe body.

"Enough," Squall hissed in demand, having been toyed with to his limit.

Hardly about to argue, Laguna extracted his fingers with a wet trail of clear lubricant. Pouring a liberal amount over his darkened length, he gave a firm stroke to spread it around. Gripping slim hips, he slowly nudged inside of Squall. Sliding deeper, pushing in inch by inch, he felt as though the tight heat was sucking him inward. It was his breaking point, and without restraint, he leaned forward and thrust as far as possible.

Squall cried out at the unexpected end to a gentle entry, the sharp pain cutting through the heated pleasure.

"I'm sorry," Laguna muttered, suddenly torn between repeating the action and pulling out all together.

Back arched, Squall eventually settled down against the mattress. "Don't be," he replied. Capable of taking a significant amount of pain without complaint, the initial penetration in such an instance hardly ranked very high up on his list.

"Does it hurt?" Laguna questioned, glancing down to see he'd indeed pushed in to the base of his penis, something that usually didn't happen until the end of their first round or beginning of their second.

Shaking his head, hair tousling on the pillow, Squall assured that it didn't hurt. "Feels good," he murmured when concerned hazel-green eyes didn't seem to believe him. Raising his arms, he pulled the older man close and kissed soft lips.

With a whimper, Laguna broke the exchange. "Can I move?" he requested.

Squall nodded in consent, wincing slightly as the man followed through with the actual action.

"Hyne," Laguna groaned, the pleasure immeasurable as his throbbing length was gripped tightly. He began to shake with restrained need as he pushed back in slowly.

"It's okay, just do it," Squall soothed, encouraging the raven-haired man by raising his legs a bit and giving the final signal to open the floodgates.

"I don't want to hurt you," Laguna returned pleadingly, head bowed and hair obscuring his face.

Squall gently brushed the long strands out of the way, resting his hand to cup the president's cheek. "I can take a potion afterwards if I need it, but this is hardly painful."

Nodding, Laguna roughly picked up the pace. Pulling out and thrusting back in, he leaned heavily against the body beneath him, arms propping himself up to make certain all his weight wasn't placed on the smaller man.

Unrestrained moans spilled from Squall's lips as the pace continued to increase and he was pleasured both inside and out. His own erection was rubbing between them while the girth of Laguna's penis kept near constant pressure on his prostate gland.

The fulfilling climax came quickly amidst panting sounds of pleasure and the forceful slapping of their bodies joining in each thrust. Squall arched with his head pressed back against the bed, ribbons of white release coating both their stomachs. Laguna rutted fiercely, muscles working to keep the pace, his own end coming as the boy's tight anus clamped around him. Buried deep, he ejaculated with blinding ecstasy, his hot seed coating the gripping channel.

Sated for the moment, Squall rest limply against the bed, arms dropping from around the form atop him. He welcomed the older man's openmouthed kiss, chuckling when the Laguna seemed unable to get enough.

"I like the way you taste," Laguna muttered in brief explanation, his tongue delving inside the boy's mouth once more.

"Mmn," Squall intoned unintelligibly, fingers raking through long raven hair.

At length, Laguna lethargically moved off of Squall and settled at the brunet's side. Sleepily shifting about to settle beneath the covers, uncaring of the drying release on them both, he happily pulled the younger man close and quietly reveled in the euphoric aftermath.

Squall squirmed about until he was more comfortably situated in the man's arms. He couldn't help but smile when Laguna kissed his forehead.

"I love you," Laguna whispered. "Hyne, I don't know what to do with myself without you. Nothing is the same."

"I know," Squall assured. "I didn't leave because I wanted to."

"You'll never leave me again, will you?" came the inevitable question from a worried lover.

"Not if I can help it," Squall answered honestly, unable to make impossible promises to the man he couldn't stand to lie to.

Fearful of change at that point, Laguna vowed to do everything in his power to make sure he never lost Squall. The boy was had become so dear and precious to him that he was utterly hopeless when alone. He couldn't imagine knowing happiness or contentment prior to meeting the war hero who'd turned out to be his son. He was now quite grateful that Squall was his son, not knowing if he'd have ever been given the chance to steal the man away without the excuse for their first visit.

"Thank you," Squall mumbled under his breath, a soft sigh indicating that he was likely as tired as the president.

"For what?" Laguna questioned softly, lips brushing over Squall's temple.

A small smile ghosted Squall's lips, gone before the raven-haired man had the chance to see it. "For showing me love," he answered quietly, as though afraid his words would be heard by someone other than Laguna.

Heart clenching, Laguna tightened his hold. He couldn't imagine anyone not showing Squall love. If that were indeed the tragic case then he was selfishly happy to be the first.

THE END

Author's Note: Yes that is the end. I'm not generally a big fan of sending the couple riding off into the sunset, even if I throw them on some hot motorcycles. It was sappy, but I hope not overly so. Closure isn't my thing, so the ending might seem like the ending to just another chapter. Anyway, I hope you liked it. It didn't turn out the way it was in my head, but I like this version better. What more could I want? I don't know if I'll do another Laguna/Squall fic. I might, but not any time soon.


End file.
